


Omens of a War

by Januaryskies



Series: A home at last [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beating, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Godfather Sirius Black, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Recovery, Teacher Remus, Werewolf Discrimination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-05-14 19:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5754655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Januaryskies/pseuds/Januaryskies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Third part of A home at last.<br/>Quidditch Cup, Death Eaters, far far less fluff and far far more angst and violence. Harry discovers the dark side of the Wizarding World, Sirius and Remus had to be careful, Moody is back and Rita Skeeter is a snooper.<br/>Or, catching with the Goblet of Fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmare's night

**Author's Note:**

> So, here goes the third part. I wasn't sure I'll wrote it first, but here we are. Just, I may skip a lots of things that are already in the book so if you don't know them well, maybe you should have it with you. And re-read the first chapter before begining to read that. Or not. Up to you.

A few days passed again, joyful and peaceful ones, filled with long walks through Starlake's forests and hills, breakfasts on the grass, playing the guitar and singing, reading books side by side, sharing long times of silence and stargazing at midnight. Both Remus and Sirius ensured that Starlake House stood untouched and untamed by the fuss Aurors were doing outside, looking for Pettigrew, by the disappearance of Bertha Jorkins, just to offer Harry true holidays like he never ever had and may as well never ever have again. And every day before going to bed, Sirius showed Harry another memory of James and Lily. 

Their wedding, where a beautiful Lily in white dress, looking so like a princess that Harry swore he never had saw a woman being so radiant, dancing with a perfectly-well hair-styled James under a sky full of summer stars. A younger Remus looking very awkward, too, when a younger Sirius, half drunk at something like 5am, snogged him stupid at the same time Lily was snogging James, and scandalising a pregnant Petunia and letting Peter burst into applause. 

The day James, as the Gryffindor's Quidditch Team Captain, made them won the Tournament, high-fiving a madly happy Sirius and rising the Cup over both of their heads, smiling wide, hugging each of his teammates, waving at Lily and Remus and Peter, and McGonagall as well, beaming of pride and victory. The party after that, of course, where they went all trashed up with firewhiskey and laughing crazy dancing on the tables all over Gryffindor's common room. 

The day Lily ended up top of their year, the way she casually hexed hard two Slytherin trying to bully her once more because of her being Muggleborn and ginger-haired and teachers' pet, and Sirius telling James if he's still sure to willingly married such a great duellist, “because siriusly, mate, at the first domestic row you're both going to blow up your place, you know that?” And James answering that, “considering you want to live your whole life with a gay werewolf, mate, you faithfully can't say I'm the fool here.” 

Blessed days, normal ones, where they still had the right to be young for a while before they graduated and had to take part of the War. Marauders pranks, first out-of-Hogwarts times, Christmases at James's parents, close calls with Death Eaters they ended to laugh near the fireplace at Godrics Hollow. The day Lily said she was pregnant. 

Of course, Remus helped Sirius as well. They spend at least one hour each morning in a remembrance session, where they always began with bad memories of Sirius that Remus ended or completed with the positives aspects of them or the happy afterwards they had. Sirius pulled every single nightmare on tiny crystal flasks, and soon he was able to sleep well, to rest and to truly began to recover from Azkaban. He also decided he had to regain some muscle and Harry laughed at him a lot the first time he saw him practicing some sort of slow, almost dancing martial art before breakfast. 

“Mock as much as you want, pup,” Sirius teased. “Your dad did the same until the day I save his bloody arse from Death Eaters with a good punch. I always coupled duelling magically with duelling physically, for the better.” 

“He, in facts, was the better at the duelling club,” Remus remembered. “Even if Regulus was close second.” 

“Walburga's way of education implied being able to duel before being able to walk, if you wanted to stay alive,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “So I assume it helped?” 

He went forward to them and hugged his godson, and then kissed his lover, and then drank a mouthful of tea. 

“And it draw her mad that I can practice something Muggle,” he added. “So, I enjoyed it as much as the thing itself. Besides, most witches and wizards don't care enough about their bodies, and they're wrong. That's where Magic comes from.” 

At the evening, he couldn't help but show Harry the memorie of a friendly duelling tournament between the Marauders and Lily. 

Then came that night. A random, normal night where, for no apparent reason, Sirius woke up at the darkest hour. 

Oh. Guess what. There _was_ a reason. A smell. A smell of fear. Being a dog Animagus had gave him a far mor better nose than most people, and smell of fear was something he was so accustomed of that he couldn't miss it. 

It wasn't Remus, so he went out of bed and right to Harry's bedroom. 

To find his godson wide awake, breathing heavily and eyes blinking in fear, both hands pressed on his forehead. 

He didn't say anything, just sat at the edge of the bed and pulled Harry in a comforting, fatherly-protective embrace. Harry responded to the hug. He was ice-cold and burning at the same time. 

“My scar _hurts,_ ” he muttered in Sirius's shoulder. “My scar burns and I've had a frighteningly real-looking nightmare about them. Pettigrew and Voldemort. He killed a man. A Muggle. There was a snake called Nagini, and an old, crumbling house and, and, Sirius... _Ow...”_

He was quivering and sweating, and his forehead was burning. Sirius nodded. 

“You're home,” he reassured him. “You're safe for the time being. He's not there, _they're not there._ You stay here, you calm down, I'll bring you something to help, okay?” 

“Kay,” Harry almost mouthed. 

He let his godfather go recluantly, but Sirius opened the cupboard and handed him a new set of pajamas. 

“Change by the time I'll come back,” he said, “if you're not too dizzy for that.” 

And the time Harry changed his cold-wet pajama for a dry one, Sirius was back, with a flannel, a bowl of fresh water and a butterbeer. 

“Here you go, pup,” he ruffled his hairs, wrapped him in an extra blanket and hand him the butterbeer. “Drink that and lie down.” 

Harry wasn't used at all to let someone take care of him. The only person who had ever did that was Madam Pomfresh, in a very professional, practical way. Sirius's way wasn't professional at all, if quite practical too. He tucked Harry in bed massaging his neck and shoulders, and gently cooled his forehead with the flannel. It helped with the pain, as did the butterbeer he had drunk. 

“Better?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Wanna talk?” 

“Yes... Sirius, that was bloody _scaring!”_

And he told him his nightmare in the whole detail: the old gardner, the snake, Wormtail speaking to a hidden, half dead but still not dead Voldemort, the ray of green light, the pain in his head, everything and more. Sirius listened in silence, watching him concerned, softly patting his forehead with the flannel. 

When he was sure that Harry had nothing left to tell, he nodded. 

“I won't say I was expecting it,” he said, “but it's another sign to add on the list.” 

“You don't think it wasn't just a dream, then?” 

“Your scar never hurted you that way since first year, you said. So, yeah, I believe it wasn't _just a dream._ In a way or another, you happened to be connected to Voldemort. I hate that, pup, but it's not helping denying it.” 

He sighted. Harry felt better, but his head was still aching. He was very glad Sirius didn't stop to pat him with the flannel. 

“For the time being, there's nothing we can do, Prongslet, and you're safe at home. He can't reach you here, he can't touch you here, and he's not truly back. That doesn't mean he's no harm, he's always. But not right now, right here. Is it okay?” 

“Yeah, I supposed.” 

“Do you want me to stay? I can sleep in dog-form at the bottom of your bed.” 

“You're aware that I'm _fourteen,_ aren't you?” Harry teased. 

“I never said 'do you _need_ it', I said 'do you _want_ it.' I know you're a teen, and that hugs and forehead kisses and playing boy-and-his-dog aren't things you _need,_ Harry. But they're nice, you seem to enjoy them and to feel comfort in them. There's nothing wrong here, you've been denied any kind of affection for years, so it's nice to catch up. That's all.” 

“You were, too.” 

“I was what?” 

“Denied any kind of affection for years. We're quite alike about lots of things.” 

“We are, even if it's a shame that we had to be alike about shitty childhoods.” Sirius admitted. “Anyway, that's why it's easier for us to understand the other. But _I'm_ the godfather here, and _you're_ the godson. That's why, _I'm_ the one being all fussing over and worrying for everything and nothing. _You're_ the one going back to sleep, with or without forehead kisses and a dog on your bedsheets.” 

“I'd like to have both,” Harry answered smiling. “The kiss and the dog. But you'd better never tell any of my mates,” he mock-warned. 

“Cross my heart,” Sirius dramatically replied. 

Then he rubbed his cheek with the thumb, kissed him on the forehead before putting the flannel back, and shapeshifted to spend the end of the night with him. When Remus found them at the morning, the smile that bloomed on his face was the one you reserve for the ones you truly love.


	2. Camping and Quidditch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is happy, Remus is recluant, Sirius is sassy, Percy is prejudicied and Narcissa is nasty.  
> I'm sorry for this summary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suggest you to take your Goblet Of Fire book by now, and to fill the missing paragraphs with the ones in the book... Just remember to include Remus and Sirius in the background, but mostly, I won't go with all the descriptions!!!  
> I hope [Aeeet,](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeeet/) who wanted Remus/Harry bonding, will be pleased because there is the first moment of a very long serie!!!

The day of the Cup, they dressed themselves the Muggle way. That wasn't any problem for them, Sirius wearing Muggles clothes basically all the time and Remus having a Muggle mother, not to mention Harry. They had buy a little, comfy magic tent with two bedrooms, and the time Remus needed to calm down the overexcited puppy Sirius was, they Apparated, Harry sidealong between both of his caretakers. 

It appeared that their location in the camping wasn't near the Weasleys', but the other side of bathrooms. Once their tent -magically, but discretely magically- set, they joined the Weasleys and Hermione and went shopping. A way or another, Arthur had managed to add Remus's, Sirius's, Harry's and Herimone's sits with the official, near the Weasleys'. Sirius beamed and thanked him a lot, but Remus was dubious. 

“I feel exposed,” he murmured to Sirius while Harry was greeting each Weasley one by one, “Everybody knows about me...” 

“It will be all fine, Moons,” Sirius reassured him. “People are there to see a Quidditch World Cup, not to bully werewolves, even the most gorgeous and famous werewolf all time.” 

“You're a prat, Pads.” 

“I don't care as long as I'm _yours_.” 

Remus rolled his eyes. But once more, he was right. After meeting the Weasleys, they saw Bagman and Crouch – Harry still despised him a lot, but Percy seemed to idolize him – and the grown-ups had a quick talk together. The Weasley Twins took a bet with Bagman, and everything seemed as fine as possible, even if Crouch avoided both of Harry's caretakers. Harry bough omnioculars for Ron and Hermione and Sirius bough them for Harry and Remus and himself. 

Then they climbed the official stand, it appeared that Remus was, once more, right. Harry, Ron and Hermione were talking to Winky, Crouch's House Elf, when the exact thing the DADA teacher had feared happened. 

“A house Elf and a werewolf in the official stand,” Lucius's slow, posh voice said. “How more low can fall the Wizarding World?” 

Harry, Ron and Hermione immediately straightened on their chairs and faced the whole Malfoy family: Lucius, Draco and Narcissa looked down at Remus with a disdain that made Harry's stomach melt down. How dared they mistreat _their_ Remus Lupin that way? He suddenly felt very protective with his unofficial second caretaker, and fell in line with his godfather in order to remember the Malfoy that they weren't dealing with the werewolf alone. 

“A problem, Malfoy?” Sirius snapped, eyes fierce. “Or do you just want me to dye your hairs the same pink your wife's niece love so much?” 

“I have no niece, Sirius,” Nacissa replied. “No one that I'm wanting to reckon so, at least. I can see you still love the compagny of lowers.” 

“Try to call Remus _lower_ another time, Cissy, and it will be the last words you'll said in that poshy little life of yours,” Sirius growled. 

“Are you threatening my wife?” Lucius straigthened. 

_“No, he is not,”_ Remus stood up and put a hand on his lover's shoulder to calm him down with a warning glare to Harry. “May I remember you that we're here to watch a Quidditch World Cup and not to argue about anything except what will happen on the ground?” 

Lucius was willing to answer, but Narcissa's hand on his forearm stopped him. 

“See, Lucius? It's a tamed wolf. More tamed than his own master. Now I don't want to stand up longer with my high-heeled shoes. Let's go to our sits.” 

They turned away and a sigh of relief fell out of the mouth of all the Weasleys and Hermione. But Harry was still tensed and Remus didn't sit down. 

“Rem?” Sirius gently called. 

“What?” Remus snapped. 

“You're crushing my shoulder.” 

And it was true. The werewolf's hand was so tensed on his mate's shoulder that when he released it, it was bruised with the drawing of his fingers. 

“I'm sorry, Padfoot.” 

– Here the Weasley twins beamed but still couldn't say what they were wanting to. – 

“It's fine, just...” 

They both were cut by Harry, that grabbed Remus by the forearm and sit him down between him and Sirius. Ron and Hermione looked as pissed of as Harry and Sirius. 

_“I hate that,”_ Harry growled in a deep, angry whisper. “They don't have any right to treat you that way. Who do they think they are?” 

“They think they are Purebloods,” Sirius sighted. “Fucking prejudicied bastards. Next time, let me punch him, Rem, please. You're as pissed off as any of us, maybe more...” 

“Yes, but I can't allow myself to do those kind of mistakes if I don't want to add grist to their mills. They may call me beast, I won't act like one.” 

There was so much dignity, so much quiet pride and courage in Remus's tone and posture, that Harry suddenly discovered a whole new side of him, the one that made him walk right and forward, head unbowed, during twelve hard years. It was Remus's greatest strengh, that ability to endure insults and prejudices and wounds and everything without feeling the need to fight back if he didn't wanted to. Yes, he was angry and yes, he was hurt but he didn't let anger lead him. He never allowed anger to lead him. 

And Harry was purely amazed, because he knew how easy it was to surrender in front of anger. But he never knew anyone, except maybe McGonagall, that never gave up that fight. 

He wanted to say something, to let Remus know how much he cared of him and how much he admired him, but he couldn't find any word and before he had the time to, Fudge and the Bulgarian Minister and the Irish one, too – a red-haired woman with blue eyes and freckles – were there and so was Ludo Bagman. 

When the Veela danced in the ground and Harry stopped thinking right, he was grabbed by a chuckling Sirius and a bored Hermione. He was sitting back when he heard Hermione asking Remus: 

“Why are you and Sirius the only men not looking stupid right now?” 

“Well,” Remus answered blushing hard, “it may be because, erm...” 

He tilted to reach her ear and whispered something very low that Harry couldn't understand, but Hermione flushed bright red and nodded furiously. 

“Oh. Of course. Seems logic. That explains a lot. Thank you, professor.” 

“Holiday name, Hermione.” 

“Sorry. Remus. And I'm okay with that. Of course I am. Very okay. Just surprised.” 

Harry smiled wide and Sirius snorted. Ron blinked near them before the Leprechaun catched all the attention. 

Then the game was a great one, and _please open your fourth book and read it._

~~~ 

The whole Ireland camp was flashing green lights and Harry, Sirius, Hermione and the Weasleys ended in the red-haired boys' tent to drink a beer and enjoy the party a bit longer, but Remus felt tired. 

“I think I'll wish all of you a very nice party and a good night and go to bed,” he yawned. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” Sirius asked, concerned. 

The full moon was in five nights, but with all the memories they've been melting with in the Pensieve the whole month, the werewolf was in a very sensitive shape that worried his mate. 

“No, thanks, Padfoot. Stay and have fun. Beside, our tent is half a mile away.” 

“Okay then, may I at least kiss you goodnight?” 

Remus sighted and nodded. The result was Sirius snogging him passionately in front of all the Weasley family, except Molly that was home. Arthur sighted and pinched the bridge of his nose, Bill and Charlie chuckled and the lond-haired one snapped a galleon in his brother's hand, Percy startled, Fred and George snorted, Ron opened wide eyes and Ginny and Hermione eyed, seeming very interested. 

“Hey, girls! Stop check out my pa -” Harry began to protest and cut himself in embarrassment. 

Remus and Sirius broke appart. There was a very, very awkward moment in the tent. 

“Would you excuse us for a moment?” Remus politely said before grabbing Harry with one hand, Sirius with the other and pull both of them outside the tent. 

“First thing is, Sirius, what did I say one hundred times about our relationship? _No public demonstration!”_

“That _wasn't_ a public demonstration, they are the _Weasleys!_ Red-haired blood traitors, Orders members and whatever. And Ginny already knew, she's a smart girl. And you told Hermione before the game. And I asked. And you _nodded.”_

“You're a prat, but I love you,” Remus sighted. “Please just stay careful, I don't want to read my name on the Daily Prophet anymore. Now, Harry...” 

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I mean, I know you aren't my parents, I -” 

But he froze there because Remus put a hand on his shoulder, a caring, warm hand along with a caring, warm eye and a caring, warm smile. 

“That's fine. We aren't James and Lily and we'll never be, and they were your father and mother, but... if you're willing to refer at us as parents, it's fine because we are. As far as I'm concerned I considered you as my family, as I considered James and Lily being my family. And I don't think Sirius will contradict me.” 

“How could I? James was my _brother_ far more than my supposed bloodbrother ever was! And, even if you can't remember, Moony's right, we were all family before... Well, before I all fucked up.” 

His grey eyes went cloudy, as each time he had to speak about that day. Harry shook his head. 

“It wasn't you, it was Pettigrew,” he fiercely said. “I won't let any of you take the blame for what happened. But I would like... I mean, Lily Evans was my mum and James Potter was my dad, and Sirius, you're my godfather but what about you, Remus? I don't feel like calling you uncle or something. Parent is neutral, it's for any kind of family, isn't it?” 

“It is,” Remus admitted, and yawned once more. 

“You'd better to go back to the tent, Moony, you're asleep on your feet.” 

Remus nodded, wished Harry goodnight, quickly and discretely kissed Sirius once more and soon disappeared between the tents. Then Sirius put a careless arm around his godson shoulders and they went back inside the Weasleys' tent. 

There happened to be an argument between Percy and Ginny. 

“No, it's not,” the youngest snapped. “It's called love, and they're gorgeous!” 

Percy seemed wanting to reply, but he saw Harry and Sirius enter and he stepped back. 

“As you want,” he said. 

“Oy, Harry, where's pr... Remus?” Ron asked. 

“Back to our tent, he was tired. Mind to hand me another butterbeer?” 

The party went fun and cool and very, very late on the night and Sirius transfigured a lot of things for fun and so did Bill and Charlie, to the youngers' delight, and they talked about the game and more and they laughed and Percy was the only one who didn't seem to enjoy anything. He avoided Sirius and glared at Harry with a kind of strange pity the teen didn't really liked. Ginny felt asleep on the table at some point of the night but Sirius transfigured a bed for her and they continued to drink and talk. Soon Harry himself was half asleep on Sirius's shoulder and Hermione was sweetly snoring on his arm and Ron was totally dreaming on her lap as the older ones were still chatting about Quidditch.


	3. The Price of Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.

Remus walked through the field, beaming inside. People were celebrating everywhere Ireland's victory, singing and laughing, and he was on a cloud. Harry had called him his parent. He knew James and Lily would approve, but that was Harry's choice and that was priceless. Still, he felt very tired since the game and he had his potion to drink. Not the better way to end that day, but a necessary one indeed. The next moon shall be hard on him, he knew that he had to pay his exhaustion with a very hard night sooner or later. Before September seemed better, because he couldn't allow himself to skip too much classes back at Hogwarts. But it would be hard for Sirius. He shook his head, throwing away the unpleasant thought. He wanted only nice ones in his mind right now. He passed the camping's bathroom carelessly. He had Sirius, he had Harry, he had a home and he even had a job, that was far more than he ever expected from life considering what he was. Everyting felt right and nice and he was humming Amhrán na bhFiann, the Irish national hymn in a warm summer evening, while walking between the cheering Irish and English witches and wizards. 

“We'll sing a song, a soldier's song...” 

Was it because he was half-singing? Because everybody was loud ans noisy everywhere? Because he was lost in his merry mind? Because he believed that right now, only peace had a place in? Because too much Firewhiskey with Sirius, Arthur and the two older Weasley boys at lunch? No answer should never came. He didn't hear anything, none of his sharp wolf-senses alerted him, no smell of danger, no shadow in the corner of his eyes. 

Just a sudden red ray of light. 

The jinx blasted him right between the shoulders and he yelped in surprise before he fell face in the mud near the bathroom's block, stunned and dizzy. A deep, rough, muffled voice overhanged him. 

“Look what I've found! The blood traitor's lapwolf!” 

A strong, gloved hand grabbed him by the back of his jumper and threw him in the center of a circle where he landed on his hands and knees. The circle was formed by nine or ten witches or wizards, wrapped in long black robes and wearing masks on their faces. Masks he very well knew. He jumped on his feet and reached for his wand on his pocket and froze in horror. There was no wand. He had lost it. He was wandless surrounded by ten Death Eaters. Even during the first War that had never happened to him just to be wandless and alone. His eyes went wide but he tried not to look scared. Which he was. Terrified, in facts. 

“Remus Lupin,” a slow, posh voice said. “Without his nasty prat and bloodtraitor owners. How delighted to see you here.” 

“I have no owners and the pleasure is not shared,” Remus replied, defensive, pretty sure it was Malfoy's. “Let me go.” 

“Why? You're hurting our feelings, wolfie. Declining so harshly our kind invitation to have some entertainment together...” 

“Fuck your entertainment.” 

“Language, werewolf,” another voice growled. “I think the lowlife deserves a lesson about who are the masters and rulers of this world.” 

“It seems to be necessary indeed. He thinks he is worth a proper wizard... Hold him.” 

Four of the Death Eaters grabbed him and pinned him, back flat on the floor. Despite his strengh, Remus was pretty unable to fight back wandless. He never had been a fighter. Sirius was. Sirius was the physical fighter, the one who punched while hexing. He hissed when the posh Death Eater – still pretty sure it was Malfoy – looked down at him. 

“Ow... Grounded, half-breed. Now, let's have our little lesson, shall we? I ask the questions, and for each wrong answer, we will carve the right one in your tainted flesh, to be very sure you'll never forget it. Are you ready?” 

“May I suggest you to go fuck an hippogriff instead? It seems more adequate to your moral standarts.” 

“He tries to be smart, that's cute. But wrong answer, werewolf. Too bad.” 

He handed a silver knife to another Death Eather, who kneeled on their captive's hips to stuck him down, and harshly twisted his head to pine it as well. The acrid and sweet smell of alcohol breath made Remus nauseous. 

“Cry for me, wolfie,” a feminine voice said, and when she cut the first letter in his face with the burning-cold knife, he couldn't help but whine. 

One letter on his cheekbone. A P, he was pretty sure, trying to focus on the meaning of what she was writing more than on the pain, to keep the scream inside, to stay proud, to stay strong, to... A O. Two O. Oh Merlin have mercy, he though, _they know_. They know about Sirius and me. 

“You're supposed to entertain us, beast, not to bore us,” the woman said and she cut the fourth letter, an infamous F, far, far deeper in his flesh. 

He gritted his teeth. A miserable whine escaped despite him. 

“Better, better, you're getting warm for our little game, Lupin.” 

But that was all he let go. 

“He's playing it proud,” the posh voice said again. “You know, Lupin, beasts don't need clothes. Why do you wear some? You'd better stop pretending being human.” 

“I'm more human than you'll ever be!” 

The posh snorted and he casted an Incendio: Remus's clothes – the ones Sirius had bough him to welcome him at Starlake house, the gift he made him to celebrate their newly retrieved family – ignited and burned his sensitive, scared skin while the Death Eaters were laughing, mocking him and his useless tries to escape them. The werewolf hissed in pain, but bite his lips to blood instead of crying. A few seconds later the flames faded, leaving him naked on the floor, with only his torned leather shoes and his white-hot belt buckle, stuck around his waist by a shred of the so-called belt and marking his belly with a deep, red burn. 

“Still not crying, wolfie?” the woman said. “Too bad for you, the game's not over yet. Now, considering you pretend yourself human, we had better to remember you what you are...” 

Then she cut him again, deep, badly, with that sharp ice-cold knife and before she ended the word she was writing on his left breast, he had cried out loud in pain and tears and fear. 

~~~ 

They ran outside to find chaos. Everybody was running, fleeing something and screaming in terror. Sirius's arm instinctively grasped Harry's shoulder. 

“What the fuck?” he growled, and from Charlie came the answer: 

“Look up!” 

Four human shapes were flying like stringless puppets twenty feet over the ground. The camping's owners and their two children. 

“Death Eaters,” Arthur whispered as if saying out loud may attract the devil. 

Harry stunned but Sirius's mind flew quick and right: 

“Oh Merlin, they're near our tent!” 

A startled comprehension rose like a wave on Sirius's face. His hands began to shake and his jaw tensed hard. 

“Remus,” he growled deep, firece, murdering. _“They'd better not touch a single hair of him or I'll...”_

Arthur, Bill and Charlie seemed to see the point as well. 

“There's the woods behind us. It seems safe for the kids. Fred, George, you go there with the younger ones,” Arthur quickly ordered. “Bill, Charlie, Percy, you go with the Ministry members, you know them, help them and stay careful. Sirius, you find Remus. I'll go help with the Muggles.” 

They all nodded and Sirius turned to Harry. 

“Harry.” he said grabbing his godson by both of his shoulders and frankly meeting his eyes, not even trying to hide how much he worried, “you're going with the Weasleys and you don't leave them, no matter what, okay? I want you to stay safe the time I find Remus. If I don't come back on time for the Weasleys to go home by their Portkey, you go with them and I'll pick you up at the Burrow, okay?” 

“Can't I come with you?” 

“Not that I don't trust you to do well, pup, but you're a target and so am I, so we don't want to make things easy for remaining Death Eaters, or former ones.” 

“... okay. I understand. Please be careful, Sirius.” 

Sirius smiled and hugged his godson tight and kissed him on the hairs. Harry responded burying his face on Sirius's chest. 

“I will, Prongslet. I swear I will.” 

They broke appart and Sirius was gone in the blink of an eye. 

“Wow,” Fred teased, “are you always huggy-cuddly like that?” 

But the furious glare Harry gave him made him shut. His fists were that tensed that his knuckles went white. 

“Remus is stronger than he looks,”Hermione tried to reassure him. “I'm sure he's fine.” 

“I know how strong he is, I saw him twice after a moon, Hermione. But I can't help but worry... because, you know? Sirius is worrying.” 

She nodded and they ran to the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma sorry.


	4. Trust me to disobey you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry really can't follow any order for long...

Everything was blurry, there was smoke everywhere that burned his eyes and nose and people running all around and cries and screams and desperate calls and Sirius did the only thing he could: he shapeshifted into a dog and searched for Remus's smell. It was easy to find, considering he knew where to start and where to go, and soon he was running to, against the flow, reaching for his lover. All around him was chaos. 

He knew chaos too well. Chaos in his mother's mad mind, chaos in the world he grew up, chaos in his own mind of course. He didn't fear chaos. He did fear for his mate. 

The bathrooms weren't half a mile away, but they seemed the other side of the sea. For one, frightening, stunning moment, Sirius remembered Azkaban and the sea around, that fucking promise of freedom he couldn't reach for twelve fucking years, that sea between him and Remus. Someone kicked him on the ground running, making his mind to fall in pieces and straight back immediately, dull but fierce. 

No. He couldn't allow that anymore. Panic. Distress. Anger. Rage. A wave rushed him forward and he leaped to Remus's trail, his heart racing madly in his chest. 

Several loud cracks of Disappearence catched his attention. 

He ran. 

And he saw him. 

His brain stopped. 

The world faded around him. 

His eyes went wide and he was human again. 

_“Remus!”_ he yelped in horror. _“Remus!”_

He threw himself on his knees near his naked, broken lover. His heart missed several beats. Remus was lying naked and unconscious in a puddle, bloody and covered in dirt and mud, wearing all over his body the brands of a severe beating up, an arm and a leg turned in awkward angles. First thing Sirius did was to remove his jaket and t-shirt and to wrap the second around Lupin's waist to preserve his reserve and the first around his shoulders to keep him warm. Merlin, how cold he was! Then he lifted him in his arms and shoulders and carried him in their tent, where he layed him down on the bed. He took a deep breath to help his hands stop shaking and began to check him. His mind was incredibly clear and precise and fast, and soon his body was responding to him with an accuracy he hadn't felt since the first war. It was a very single focus, outing the whole world out of his mind, and with precise gestures he began both to check and heal with his bare hands, as he had learn many, many years ago in Hogwart's hospital wing. 

Remus was in a pretty bad shape: he had a black eye, several wounds and bruises and deep burns everywhere, and someone had wrote insults in his flesh, cuting him deep enough to bleed. First Sirirus tried hard not to read, but it was useless, the wounds were mostly words and he couldn't heal them without reading. On Remus's right cheekbone, a large “POOFTER” was readable, and “BEAST” all over his left breast, and Sirius' hands began to shake as he continued checking him. Most of the injuries were litterary insults: cocksucker, dog's bitch, lowlife, half-breed, dogfucker... he tried to focus again, to let them unread, but it was more and more unbearable. He began to lose it again and fight back. He didn't have the right to break now. He had to take care of Remus. To focus and remain calm. 

Suddenly someone stormed back in and he jumped on his feet, wand up. 

To discover a breathless Harry, eyes wide with fear and concern, stunned at the middle of the entrance two wands in the same hand. 

“Remus's wand...” he panted franticaly, “The Dark Mark... In the woods... someone casted it... with Remus's wand...” 

Sirius let go a breath he didn't know he was holding and crushed Harry in his arms as his godson crashed himself in his godfather's chest. Sirius was shaking and sweating and he smelled strong, acrid. He smelled fear, and so did Harry. 

“What the fuck with the Dark Mark?” Sirius asked. 

“It appeared in the woods. I was near the wizard who casted it but I didn't saw him. It's huge and all over the sky, how could you have miss it?” 

“Was focusing on Remus,” he blurted. 

“Remus,” the teen frowned. “How is he?” 

“Alive,” was all Sirius was able to say. 

Harry nodded in Sirius's chest. 

“Let me help you, Sirius, please. I'm sorry I disobeyed and came back but I just couldn't...” 

“I know,” his godfather agreed. “I bloody _know,_ Harry. He needs us right now. He needs first aid and far more. Go to the bathroom and bring me the healing potions box, a bowl of warm water and bandages. A lot of bandages.” 

The boy nodded and obeyed quickly. Sirius kneeled back near Remus and braced himself. 

“Harry's here, love,” he whispered. “He came back for you, so don't you dare to give up, okay, Moony?” 

He waved his wand around his boyfriend's body and began to chant to stop the bleeding: 

_“Vulnera sanetur...”_

When Harry came back a few seconds later with the potions, water and towel, he couldn't help but read at least the ones on the cheek and breast, and froze in horror, eyes wide and watery, face pale. Was it the true face about that Wizarding World that seemed, three years ago, like a piece of paradize fall on the Earth? Was it what happened to those who were different like he once was, like Remus was, like Sirius was, like they all shall be forever? Will Remus live? Die? Be ever the same again? Was anything there even real? 

_“Don't,_ Harry,” Sirius commanded sharply, bringing him to his senses. “Don't read. Please go grab me something to drink instead. I mean _alcohol._ I'll fucking need some or I'm going to lose it.” 

“Okay,” Harry answered in shock, and obeyed like an automat. 

Once the bleeding ceased, Sirius used the potion to clean Remus's wounds, and then healed them beginning with the deepest and most dangerous ones, being very careful and focused about fading them as much as he could. There was no way one of those had to scar. There was no way Remus even saw them. 

“Oh love,” Sirius whispered. “What the bloody hell did they do to you?” 

Harry came back carrying a bottle of Firewhiskey. He handed it to Sirius. Once more, he couldn't help but look. His stomach melted hard. 

“Will he be okay?” he asked while Sirius drank a sip of whiskey directly at the bottle to help his mind staying straight. 

“I can't tell yet,” he answered, frankly as always. “I can't tell,” he repeated, rubbing his face with both hands. “Fuck,” he added, unsure. “You think you can manage a Patronus? If you do, please send one to McGonagall. She mustn't be far away. I can't heal him all alone with so few supplies.” 

Harry obeyed quickly, even if he had a hard time to conjure the stag as he was all overhelmed by everything that happened. He finally focused on their very first evening together at Starlake house, eating fish and chips on the bed, and managed to let the silver stag run out of his wand. He didn't have a clue about how to make it talk, anyway, but Sirius was catched up by healing Remus and the teen was pretty good at being by himself, so he tried the easiest way: 

“Please find professor McGonagall and tell her we need her, and that it's an emergency,” he said to his stag. 

The next few minutes seemed a very, very bad and painful nightmare, as Sirius continued to do his best and Harry kept an eye outside, where the mess and chaos was slowly calming down. 

McGonagall stormed in their tent a moment later, following the silver stag, and without a word helped Sirius healing the deepest wounds on Remus's body. But the werewolf didn't wake up. 

“We'd better bring him to St Mungo's,” McGonagall said after they reduced all the most dangerous wounds. “He's in a bad shape...” 

“You know they won't take him,” Sirius growled in hard-kept anger. “He's a notorious _werewolf,_ professor! We tried that once during the first war, they asked James if we want them to _poison_ him.” 

“Hogwart's hospital wing, then. Poppy will be more useful than us.” 

“Sidealong Apparition is risky in his shape...” 

“We've no choice, Sirius. I know you're not willing to worsen his wounds, but let him here and he'll die for sure.” 

Sirius nodded, but didn't move and didn't let Remus's hand go. 

“We had to Apparate at Hogwart's doors in Hogsmeade,” she said. “I'll handle Remus and carry him to the hospital wing. You fold your tent and follow me with Harry.” 

Seeing he was recluant to leave him, she sighted. The only person able to reason with an overhelmed Sirius was properly knocked out for the time being. 

“You have to take care of your godson, Sirius,” she remembered him quietly but firmly. “You won't be separated more than twenty minutes, but you need to stay straight. We're running out of time and each second might make the difference.” 

“Yeah,” he muttered, pretty ashamed of his own lack of self-control. “I'm sorry. Please take care of him.” 

“I will,” she said transfiguring the bed into a stretcher under Remus. “Now do what you have to.” 

He nodded and she went out of the tent, levitating the stretcher. Harry put a hand on Sirius's shouldder, a hand he wished being comforting despite its shaking. Sirius put his own hand to cover his godson's. 

“Go pack your stuff, Prongslet,” he said. “We need to hurry.”


	5. In between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Aeeet](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeeet/pseuds/Aeeet), who wanted Harry & Remus moments.

Angsty, long hours had passed and Remus didn't wake up. 

The adrenaline boiling in Harry's and Sirius's blood had suddenly dropped down and Sirius had been properly unable to keep his tears inside any longer. He had locked himself in the toilets, casted a silencing spell and cried and punched the walls and shook hugging his own arms for fifteen minutes or so, before keeping himself together and coming back for his godson, who was slightly better in the single virtue of a soothing potion Madam Pomfresh forced both of them to drink. That's how they eventually learned that long-time presence of Dementors affected the body's response to almost all healing potions. They were very glad that Remus himself never had to go to Azkaban. 

Harry and Sirius were now sitting together near the werewolf's bed in Hogwart's hospital wing, an empty, dead, silent Hogwarts. Harry never though that he might, one day, find Hogwarts depressing, but those huge lifeless corridors everywhere, only crossed by cold glooming ghosts and hurrying teachers, while he himself was stuck on a very uncomfortable chair trying to stay awake, was one of the most depressing things he ever had done in his life. A pale, sick dawn was crawling on the skies, but they ignored it. 

Between the warm bedsheets, Remus was lying unconscious. A large plaster covered his cheek and McGonagall had transfigured pajamas on his body after Madam Pomfresh had healed him as much as she could, bringing a bad new: the knife used was a sacrificial one, meant to scar and poisoned with something she couldn't figure out and needed Snape's help to discover an antidote. She had fight for three hours agains burns and poison in order to make at least the words fade. She had said he must wake up in the morning and that they had better to go get some sleep, but Sirius's stormy glare had made her sigh and leave them. So had McGonagall a moment later. 

Now Sirius's face was closed, white and haunted, a vivid portray of melted fear and sorrow, while Harry had a hard time staying awake and coherent, exhaustion winning foot after foot the battle against his will. 

“You'd better take a bed and sleep, pup, or to Floo home if you prefer,” his godfather gently tousled his hairs. “You're asleep in your feet. I'll wake you up if anything happen, I promise.” 

“I don't want to leave you alone,” Harry shook his head. 

“Then I'll make both of your need and your will possible,” Sirius very, very calmly answered. “Stand up.” 

He waved his wand and transfigured both of their chairs into a comfy couch. 

“Blimey, each time you do something like that, I can't help but think you're really brilliant at Transfiguration...” 

“How do you think I managed to become an Animagus in fifth year, Prongslet? Now take a blanket and get some sleep. You can use me as a pillow if you want, I don't mind, but sleep. The last thing we need is _you_ in a bad shape, okay?” 

Harry nodded, yawned and obeyed. He grabbed a blanket on another bed, wrapped it around him and rested his head on his godfather's lap, finding it far better than any pillow: the jeans were rough, but Sirius's smell and warmth were comforting and his hand began to rub and melt in his hairs, a gentle, calming gesture. He didn't even know he fell asleep. 

At the morning, Sirius wasn't the one who wake him up. Nor Madam Pomfresh. It was a deep, sour cough that made him wide awake in the blink of an eye. 

_“Remus!”_ he jumped on his feet, hesitated a second and sheepishly grabbed the werewolf's hand between both of his. 

“M'ning, Harry,” a very weak, hoarse and raspy voice replied. 

Sirius woke up too and flew near his lover, kneeling near him and carefully carressing his jaw. Remus's face was worn out, his amber eyes were bright, feverish, deeply dark-ringed and full of sleepy shadows. 

“You're alive, oh, Moony, fuck, you're awake...” he whispered, his grey eyes clearing from the storm, watering in spite of his will. “Moony, my Moony... How're you?” 

“Sore. Thirsty. In love.” 

Sirius managed a sad crooked smile and brushed his lips on Remus's. 

“I'll be right back,” he said, and ran out. 

Remus found the strengh to curl his lips up in a very weak grin. 

“How are you, Harry?” he asked. 

“I'm fine, but we were worrying. You lost your wand...” 

“Yes... being wandless in front of a handful of Death Eaters is definitively not a good experience. Oh, Sirius is fast,” he added eyeing a teapot and a mug appearing near the bed, sidealong with a very large tray on the nearest bed, filled with a huge, huge breakfast. 

“How does he...” 

“Well, I'm pretty sure he will never forget how to reach the kitchens. Would you mind hand me a cup of tea?” 

Harry obeyed, but Remus's hands weren't steady enough to let him drink by himself. 

“Oh Merlin,” he growled, “I hate that.” 

“Let me help you,” Harry gently commanded, and he held Remus's head in one hand and the tea cup in the other to make his teacher drank a few sips before easing him on the pillow. 

“Thanks,” Lupin said a bit less hoarsely. “I'm sorry you'd to see me like that.” 

“Please don't, Remus,” Harry shook his head. “We're family, remember?” 

The werewolf managed a slightly wider smile, the better answer he could give right now. They stayed that way, both wrapped in a shared, comfy and kinda shy silence. Without the warming, shining presence of Sirius, things were still a bit awkward between them. First, Harry couldn't help but see Remus as his teacher more than anything. His very best, very faourite teacher, but still his teacher. Second, they had spend a whole schoolyear during which Remus hadn't say anything to Harry about his relationship with his parents. If Sirius hadn't dragged Ron into the Shack and everything what happened after, Harry would never had known about that. About someone knowing his own parents better than almost anyone, standing near him and never telling him. He gave him no grief for that, but it uneased their relationship anyway. Harry always had hard time trusting grown-ups after everything he's gone through, those stupid habits of keeping secrets instead of trying to explain things to sort them out, and Remus had played that game he hated for months. With a dreadful lots of very good reasons, including being a werewolf. But still. 

Things were different with Remus than with Sirius. More distant, more reverent someway. Not that they didn't love each other as deeply as some very close uncle and nephew, just... not as stupidly, mindlessly tight as the bond Sirius and he quickly developped. 

“I'm sorry,” Remus murmured as he had been able to follow Harry's wandering mind. “For not telling you about James. And Lily.” 

“That's okay,” Harry cut him gently. “Well, I mean, you should have told me, but I don't care anymore. It's just... too much people didn't tell me things they should have, you know? The Dursleys didn't tell me I was a wizard. Dumbledore didn't tell me I was linked to Voldemort. Mr Weasley didn't tell me Sirius was my godfather. And according to Mrs Weasley, _no one_ must tell me _anything._ So, yeah, you should have tell me, but I can figure why you didn't. Those memories are still hurting you, aren't they? If Sirius's innocence may have eased them... And you though it may overstep your rights as a teacher, and some other stuff, don't you?” 

Remus slowly nodded. Harry grinned. 

“We'll catch up. Please just take care of yourself and focus on healing for now.” 

Second, weaker nod. And the long deep sound of the door opening again. Sirius walked forward to them, a wide tray in the hands. A breakfast for ten persons was steaming on it. 

“Here we go,” he said setting it down on the nearest bed. “I'll call Pomfresh in a moment. Wanna eat something?” 

Remus shook his head. 

“Wolfsbane,” he muttered. 

Sirius simply nodded, slid an arm around Remus's shoulders and straightened him up. He catched the flask of potion he had kept in his jacket “just in case” and made his mate drink it. Remus grimaced swallowing the last sip. 

“Dreadful.” 

“I'm sorry, love,” Sirius kissed him before laying him back onto the pillows. “Do you need anything else?” 

“Dumbledore,” Remus hissed trying to move. 

_“Hey hey hey!”_ his boyfriend stopped him firmly. “Stay still and calm, Moons. You're badly wounded. I'll take care of everything, but just. Don't. Move.” 

He ghosted another kiss on the werewolf's splited lips, then casted a Patronus. It was the first time Harry saw Sirius cast a Patronus, but he wasn't surprised at all when a huge silver bearlike dog leapt from the ebony wand. The glowing Grim didn't even look back and went out of the hospital wing. Then, Sirius turned to Harry. 

“How're you, pup? Night was too short for you...” 

“I'm fine, Sirius, please stop fussing about me. I just want to understand what happened and why they did that to Remus.” 

The werewolf and the Animagus exchanged a glare. Remus weakly sighed and muttered: 

“Go ahead.” 

Sirius sat back at the edge of the bed, gently holding his boyfriend's hand and stroking it with his thump, but his face closed again with that haunted expression he now had for bad news and hard talks. 

“Sit down, Harry,” he said, voice toneless. 

Harry obeyed and glanced at him, waiting as he saw his godfather reaching the words he needed. 

“The ones you saw yesterday were former Death Eaters. Those who hadn't been caught or had managed to stay free a way or another. And what happened... Well, that's what they probably call _a nice party between old friends._ Torturing Muggles or anyone they may consider as inferior, including people like Remus or Hermione, is their way to... entertain themselves.” 

He took a break, eyes wandering on the floor as they often did when he was trying to sort out how to tell things properly. It was a post-Azkaban thing, and Harry knew it just because Remus always looked a bit confused each time Sirius did that. But for the time being, he was just far too shocked to say or think anything coherent. 

“During the first War, those kind of things happened... weekly. Almost _daily._ There was hardly a day without we didn't see or hear about the ugly symbol you saw tonight. The Dark Mark. Their signature. They casted it in the sky up to the places they murdered or tortured people, for their Master's purpose or just for – erk. Fun, or what they called so.” 

He swallowed. Hard. Painfully. Eyes shut in grief. Remus's face was hiden under a veil of sandy hairs. Their hands were clenched together in a tight grip. Harry decided to go ahead with present times before one of his caretakers get lost and trapped in their memories. 

“The Aurors said they Disappeared when they saw the Mark,” he pointed. “Why?” 

“Well, they turned back. They betrayed him. That's why they are not in Az', and they know Voldemort will _not_ be pleased with them if he comes back. So, they may have been the most scared ones when it appeared... Merlin, when I think you were only a few feet away from the _mental_ who did that...” 

“I already faced Voldemort twice, remember?” 

“Three times, pup, even if you were a toddler the first one. And believe me, _I just can't stop thinking about it.”_

“So do I,” a calm voice said as the doors opened. 

Dumbledore was standing at the entrance. 

He wasn't alone. Madam Pomfresh was there too, and almost threw everybody out the time she took care of Remus's injuries. Harry, Sirius and Dumbledore found themselves standing in front of the Hospital Wing's door before understanding clearly what had happened. 

“How is he?” Dumbledore asked to Sirius. 

“Like a werewolf who had stood wandless in front of ten drunk Death Eaters, Albus,” Sirius snarled. “ _Bad._ And the moon's in five days. It's going to be dreadful for him.” 

Harry glanced at Dumbledore's face and for once was practicaly able to read in his mind. 

_“Please don't dismiss him because he won't make it for the start of the school year!”_ he gasped. “No one in Hogwarts want another DADA teacher but him!” 

He cut off and frowned. 

“Maybe Slytherins, but who cares? They're the ones who did that to him! Draco almost _confessed_ his father was one of those masked nuts!” 

He was as vehement as Sirius often was, but Dumbledore was smiling, and even Sirius's worried face broke in a crooked grin. The teen flushed hard. 

“I do not have any intend to dismiss professor Lupin from his duties, Harry,” the Headmaster calmy said. “I just need to ensure that he had a substitute the time he needs to properly recover.” 

“Oh,” Harry said, and immediately though he sounded very, very dumb. 

Hopefully, Sirius's hand gently massaged his shoulder and calm him down. 

“Someone in mind, Albus?” 

“Actually, I was thinking that Alastor could be quite an accurate choice.” 

“Well, no offense, but Mad-Eye's paranoïd. I mean, Remus and I asked him to give a hand for the Pensieve stuff and he almost blow up all Grimmauld Place because of a bunch of dead Puffskeins. Not that I've minded a lot about blowing up Grimmauld Place, but...” 

“But he may teach them to be a bit more careful.” 

Madam Pomfresh suddenly opened the door again. 

“You may come in, but keep quiet. He will be well enough to come back home if you can keep watching after him and change his poultice twice a day, Mr Black, and bring him back to me if anything worsen. I know your healing skills first hand and he already begged me to let him go. And you will be kind enough to transfigure that couch back into chairs as soon as you won't need it anymore. Headmaster, he won't be able to work before a month at least, probably one and a half. The poison is still in his body, professor Snape only goes for a Bezoar not knowing exactly what it is, and it seemed half-effective at least, so it won't kill him. But the next moon will be very hard on him because of it, and he wasn't able to drink wolfsbane on time yesterday, so it won't be effective.” 

The werewolf wasn't better after Pomfresh's intervention than before, but it was nothing but expected, she had to change the poultices and the bandages and it was exhausting in his current state. His lover leaned and kissed him and brushed his hairs to comfort him. 

“We'll bring you home soon, Moons,” he whispered. “for now you've a guest.” 

“Help me up, please, I wanna sit.” 

Sirius obliged him, and soon enough Remus looked up at Dumbledore. 

“Good morning, Headmaster,” he said. 

“Good morning, Remus. Minerva sends her rewards and wishes of quick recovery. By the way, I won't bother you for long. I just need you to approuve or disapprouve my choice about your substitute for the month to come.” 

“Oh, I... Fine,” the werewolf babbled. “Fine,” he repeated more firmly. “Who is he or she?” 

“Alastor Moody.” 

“Merlin! That's a bit... harsh. But it's good for me. He, at least, will read the notes I'll send.” 

“Very well. You ought to rest for the time being. You may stay here as long as you want, but I assume you'd like come home as soon as possible.” 

“Yes, I do if you don't mind, Headmaster.” 

“Of course. Sirius, do you need any assistance?” 

“Nay, thanks, Albus.” 

He transfigured the couch back into two uncomfortable chairs. Madam Pomfresh always seemed to disapprove about visitors, and so did the chairs right now in Harry's mind. 

They Flooed home.


	6. Rita is on it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more, pretty exactly what the title says.

Harry had still a pinch in the chest each time he remembered he had a home. Even with Remus in a stretcher, they will be safe at Starlake House. That very certainty warmed up his chest and calmed him down anytime, just like Sirius's presence. He felt tired, but not sad nor angry when they stepped in their living room and helped Remus in the stairs. 

They tucked the werewolf in bed where he fell asleep almost immediately. Sirius put a monitoring spell that as supposed to advert them if anything went bad with Remus, then they flooed the Weasleys to give them news. The whole family had been worrying, of course, and they were very relieved when they learned that Remus was alive, and both Harry and Sirius uninjured at all. After Molly enquired about school shopping -Molly was the only one able to point something like school shopping with one of her friends lying half-dead in his bed, but she was pretty right, they did have to go shopping.- Bill offered to come the day after to watch after Remus. It didn't take long to Ron and Hermione, who was still at the Burrow, to ask to come along shopping. Molly agreed after the third guarantee Sirius gave her that yes, he will be careful and yes, they will be safe and yes, they'll use the Floo and not the flying motorbike, and no, he won't let them by their own anytime and _for Merlin's sake, Molly, do you really think I'll let my bloody godson wander anywhere out of my sight after what happened, and please stop threat me like a brainless git, it's my lover who's upstairs all wrapped up in bandages, I'm fucking perfectly aware of how bad is everything, thank you very much._ To Harry's surprise, Sirius hadn't yell at all, just speak more vehemently than ever. And to everyone's surprise, Molly had shut up. She needed a few seconds to finally blurt out: 

“Oh. Oh, then you and Remus...” 

The stern look he gave her through the Floo made her shut a second time. 

“Tomorrow, 9am,” he said dryly. “I'll close the Floo for the day.” 

“O – okay. Best wishes to Remus. See you tomorrow, Harry.” 

With a deep sigh, godfather-and-son pulled their heads out of the fire place and Sirius burried his face in his hands. He took deep, long breaths before bracing himself to look at Harry, a very tired but kinda relieved Harry. 

“Fancy a kip, pup?” 

Harry smiled. He had had almost two months to learn that in Sirius's language, kip meant “sleeping on the grass with loads of pillows and a huge pile of blankets.” Right now, that seemed the nicest thing ever. So, he nodded. 

They woke up because of a cold breeze over their cheeks, hours later, the sunset on the lake throwing beautiful, long shadows everywhere. Sirius swore a couple of times, cooked some soup for the three of them and they were gone for another bed-supper. Remus needed help to steady his hands on the bowl, and Harry watched at the way Sirius had to do it casually, like something so normal that it never looked like pity. No wonder why Remus loved that, at least the forty minutes he managed to stay awake. 

Sirius and Harry had a movie on the smoking magical telly, some cute stuff called Willow about a dwarf, a silly warrior and a baby. At some point, Sirius turned into a dog, maybe to avoid an imminent emotionnal outburst for no reason. 

That night, he didn't sleep with Remus. He dragged a few blankets in the library and casted very strong silencing spells all over it, and slept in the sofa. 

He gave up about sleeping at all after the fourth nightmare and the seventh awaken to check on Remus's shape at 6 am and baked chocolate cookies. Because what would you do at 6 am, wide awake and not rested at all, if not backing chocolate cookies? At least, it would cheer Remus and Harry up. 

At eight, he woke his godson up in his dog form, jumping on the bed, messing with the bedsheets and licking Harry's face and his protestations the very same way. The boy laughed and it helped to make his godfahter's forced happy mood in a a-bit-less-forced happy mood. The breakfast cookies helped. While Harry took a shower and get dressed, Sirius sliped in his bedroom and let a plate of cookies and a cup of tea near the bed, with a feather-weight charm and a stay-warm spell on both of them. He mentally played with the idea to kiss Remus, but he knew the werewolf's sleep was quite light, even injured, and he crawled silently out after grabbing some fresh clothes. 

At eight past twenty-five, a ow knocked at the kitchen's window. 

“What is it?” Harry asked frowning as Sirius let the bird in. 

“A letter for Remus... I don't recognize the handwriting, still. I don't like that, after what happened. Does it remind you someone?” 

He handed the letter to Harry. It was a large, messy handwriting he, indeed, knew very well. 

“It's from Dean.” 

“Dean? Who the hell is Dean? 

“You met him at my birthday,” Harry smiled thinking about his dormmate and how he always went all glowing about their DADA teacher. “The referee during our game. He... Let's say Professor Lupin has a kind of fan.” 

Sirius barked a laugh. 

“A whole fanclub, for sure. I'll leave it with his breakfast, he'll love it.” 

And so he did immediately. He was careful to break the seal before leaving it, because he wasn't sure Remus's fingers would be steady enough when he would wake up. Then he brushed a kiss on his lips and went downstairs with Harry. He knew Remus hated when people get all 

At nine, Bill, Ron, Hermione and Crookshank flooed in. At nine fifteen, the trio and Sirius, Hermione's cat wrapped around his neck like an ugly, fluffy orange scarf that was positively hideous with his punk-rock muggle clothes, stepped in the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius was almost unable not to keep a hand on Harry's shoulder, like if the boy was likely to fly away or vanish. By the way, Harry himself didn't mind. The instant they put a foot in Diagon Alley, there were eyes looking at them, and both of them hated that. Crowds. Being eyed. Judged. They didn't even have the time to reach Flourish and Bott before being litteraly assaulted by a woman with horrible glasses and complicated hair. 

“Merlin be blessed, isn't it the most handsome bachelor of the whole Wizarding World and his charming legendary godson we have here?” she cooed over while Sirius froze and frowned. 

“What do you want?” he growled glaring at her in a way which normally made people step back. 

That woman, to Harry's advice, had no sense of self-preservation, because she stepped forward. A quick look at Ron and Hermione and he knew he wasn't the only one thinking that she was positively suicidal. 

“But an interview, my dear!” she exclaimed. “With you and your wonderful ward! I know for sure that you were both at the epicenter of the World Cup events! Is it true that a werewolf had been bullied after having cast the Dark Mark in young Harry's presence? How do you feel about what happened? Are you in favor of a hunt for the beast or would you rather slay it by yourself for endangering your godson?” 

Suicidal, Harry though once more. Totally definitively suicidal. Sirius's blood was drained out of his face and his hands were shaking. Ron and Hermione exchanged alarming glares. And Crookshank began to purr heavyly around Sirius's neck. 

The result was astonishing. Sirius's shoulders soon relaxed, he sighed and closed his eyes for a second. When he spoke again, it was with a voice Harry never suspected his godfather to be able to perform: an imperative, sharp, almost royal low deep tone that was exactly the one Orion Black had use in the memories he had seen once. 

“Mrs Skeeter. I am in London today to purchase school supplies for my godson. I, indeed, do not have any time to grant you, nor today nor anyday. Harry does not have either, and so does his friends. Now, please clear our way and have a nice day.” 

He stepped forward, pushing Harry by the shoulder, the orange cat nestled in his remaining arm, and Rita was forced to move aside. Ron and Hermione fell into step behind their friend, but they all have the time to get a glimpse of Mrs Skeeter scandalised, stunned face and of her stupidly open mouth where three golden teeth were shining unconsistently. The three teens had a hard time not to break in laughers. 

“Blimey, Sirius, where did you learn to do that?” Ron asked. “I mean, you were more frightening than McGonagall!” 

“Oh no I wasn't, believe me, she can be far more frightening than that. By the way, don't say Remus I used the Black Tone, he would jinx me even half dead for that. He hates it.” 

“I can figure why,” Hermione said as they let him led them in the bookshop. 

After a while, Harry had pretty everything he needed, except new robes and... 

“A dress robe?” Sirius grinned. “Don't have a clue why, but ask if you need dance lessons, pup.” 

“Dance what?” Harry and Ron startled together. 

“Do you think it's about a bal?” Hermione asked. 

“Well, I can't figure another reason. You okay, Ron?” 

Ron obviously wasn't at all. He was making the exact same face he had in front of an acromantula. 

“I just understood what was the horrible awful disgusting purple laced rag in my closet...” 

“Ow, that seems _bad...”_ Sirius crooked a smile. “But, I may remember I broke your leg three months ago, I'm still feeling bad about that...” 

“You know this excuse is out-of-date,” Ron straightened. “I don't need charity.” 

Sirius's smile faded and his face closed in a stern, grave expression that remembered the three teens the day they met him in the Shrieking Shack. He grabbed Ron's shoulders and stuked his eyes in the boy's ones. Ron flushed, but didn't avoid them. 

“I owe you my _freedom,_ Ron. I owe my freedom to your loyalty towards your friends, Hermione's sharp mind and Harry's kind heart. I owe you everything I had today, and you _think_ I may do you a charity? _No way,_ Ronald Weasley. But if you're too proud to consider that, let's say it's an advance on your Christmas gift?” 

“You were planning to offer me a Christmas gift?” 

“I already buy Hermione's birthday one, so... yes.” 

Ron was totally bewildered, and Hermione's cheeks were bright pink. 

“Remus is _so right_ when he says you're embarrassment in flesh and bones,” Harry chuckeld. “Come on, Ron, you know he'll do it anyway.” 

Ron shrugged and surrendered. 

“Do you need one as well, Hermione?” Sirius asked pushing Twilfitt and Tattings' door. 

“No, thanks, my parents already bought me one.” 

The boys ended with a deep-green, very simple and elegant robe with gold staples for Harry and a red-and-gold one for Ron, who couldn't go for anything else than his House's colors. Sirius never let Ron look at the bill. 

They stepped out of the shop and were greeted by a blinding flash and the carasteristic sound of a camera. Sirius swore loudly. A spruce giggle responded. Mrs Skeeter was here again, with a wizard behind her who was now taking pictures at a frightenning speed. 

_“Helloooo again, dears!”_ she sing-sang in a false, high pitched voice. “Now that your shopping is done, may we have that interview?” 

“But just... _No,”_ Sirius exclaimed, more exasperated than infuriated. “No, I said _no,_ basic vocabulary, you know that? Opposite of yes: _no._ Means _refusal.”_

“Come ooon, Mr Black, no one refuses an interview with the one and only Rita Skeeter,” she widened her fake smile a way Harry couldn't help but find very ugly. 

“Well, I happen to be the one and only Sirius Black and so, _I will. Refuse. That. Interview._ Come on, kiddos, time to come home.” 

He passed her way like she was nothing but a bug, and flooed the teens back in the nearest fireplace. Once all safe at Starlake, Sirius left the teens in the living room and climbed the stairs to relieve Bill from his watch and probably fuss a lot around Remus. Ron and Hermione sat on the couch while Harry went to the kitchen to catch some pumkin juice in the cold cupboard. Hermione was very amused by the way Sirius had deal with the journalist. 

“Opposite of yes: no,” she mimiced laughing. “Oh that was so _priceless!”_

“I'm not sure,” Ron frowned, dubious. “Rita Skeeter is a nosy snooper, Dad had had a few hard times with her because of his job, she always put all the drama and a lot of lies and flourish on everything until you can't separate facts and fiction. Sirius had better not become her enemy...” 

“I don't like her anyway,” Harry said after a few pumpkin juice sips, “nor that rumour about Remus casting the Dark Mark. He wasn't even there!” 

“Oh, you already know, then,” Bill said entering the room. “I was going to hide today's Daily Prophet in order to spare it from Sirius's potential anger, but...” 

“Give it to me, please,” Harry said. “It's indeed better to hide it from Sirius until evening at least, or he'll go back to Diagon Alley and hex that Skeeter right in the middle of the street. She pissed him off with that interview stuff...” 

“You met Skeeter? Bad luck, she's a glue pot!” 

“How was Remus?” 

“He slept the whole time. Sirius had to shake him to wake him up and be able to change the poultice and bandages. I left them there, I know Remus is kind of a prude. Any plan for lunch?” 

“There is a village a few miles away, Sirius said we can order fish and chips. The pub make excellent take-away fish and chips. We just need to ask for Em's ones, those are the better.” 

And so they do.


	7. Moony has a fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean Thomas is a devoted student and Harry is a good boy.

Sirius sat at the edge of the bed while Bill closed the door behind him. Remus was looking at him with bright feverish eyes. Smiling bright feverish eyes. That was kinda cute and nut at the same time. He knew himself looked overly concerned and worried, so he didn't tease and just smiled back. He caressed his lover's cheekbone with his thumb. 

“How are you, Moons?” 

“You won't believe me if I say fine.” 

Sirius grinned in approval. He helped him drink a few sips of tea and a full glass of painkiller potion, using an arm to hold his back straight and the other to steady his shaking hands. 

“I'm sore, but peaceful. Tired. Totally gone for you.” 

“I wish I could just kiss your wounds better.” 

“Kiss me already, it will be good enough for the time being” 

Sirius obliged him and snogged him gently and sweetly, very careful to stay on a right angle to keep his lover's neck straight. 

“I'll need to change the poultice and bandages. May I transfer your pajamas off?” 

“You normally don't bore to ask,” Remus teased. “Go on, Pads, I'm no porcelain doll.” 

Sirius nodded and began what had to become the healing routine for the weeks to come, putting the old poultice off, wiping the skin and wounds clean before spreading the new dough all along and protecting it with clean bandages. He had to help Remus to his stomach for a while when he took care of some back injuries. To his relief, the werewolf was still good enough to chat. 

“How was Diagon Alley?” he asked as a twinge made him frown. 

“Dreadful. Rita Skeeter cornered us twice. Wanted an interview. Oh, and you've got mail this morning. Harry says it's one of your students. Would you want me to read the letter after we're done?” 

Instead of answering, Remus pinched his lips to hold a groan back. His flesh was that sensitive that even Sirius's expert and careful touch revived the pain. 

“You okay, Rem?” 

“Will be.” 

“I'm almost finished,” his lover said and after a silent while, he eased him back on the pillows and transferred the pajamas on his body. “Here you go.” 

“Ow...” Remus winced. “Thanks.” 

Sirius closed his eyes and shook his head. He knew very well how to deal with an injured Remus: never ack like it wasn't the most normal thing ever and show no commiseration. And fuss and worry out of his sight if possible. If not, better break in tears. 

“Your letter?” he offered casually, leaning back in the armchair Bill had used the whole morning. 

“Yes, please.” 

“Dear Professor Lupin,” Sirius began with his best storyteller voice, “I heard Mr Diggory say to Seamus' father that you were hurt during the Death Eaters' attack in the camping, so I'm writing to you to wish you to recover quickly. I hope you are not too bad, because we absolutely need your very best Defence Against Dark Arts teacher in his best shape to begin our new schoolyear! The homework you gave us about the protection spells was so enthralling I wrote ten inches of parchment more than what you asked, I hope it will be okay because I sounds like Granger here, and even if she's a great girl, it's strange enough. I have no clue about how to end that letter, it's the first time I write to a teacher, so I will wish you a swift recovery and a nice holidays ending. Your student, Dean Thomas.” 

Sirius barked a laugh. 

“Harry wasn't lying saying you have fans, Moony!” 

“Shut up, you prat,” Remus yawned, half asleep already. “Your godson isn't the only good boy his year.” 

“Never doubted it. Do you want me to wake you up for diner?” 

He only found the strength to nod as his amber eyes began to close by themselves. He felt Sirius's soft, warm lips brushing his gently and blacked out. 

~~~ 

_Dear Dean,_

_Thank you very much for your letter, it's very kind of you to take some holiday time to write to one of your teachers._

_I'm very sorry I won't be well enough to handle the first month of this schoolyear, but I'm pretty sure you will enjoy my substitute, he is a former Auror called Mr Moody. I will write him a note to ensure that your extra work will be appreciated as it deserves to be. I will be back to class in October._

_Please do not worry about my health, I will be better soon and there are people there to take care of me. Harry, who is currently writing this letter for me because I can't – You know his handwriting and mine as well, so I assume you already figured that – is one of them._

_Wishing you a nice last week of holidays and a great beginning of fourth year,_

_Professor Lupin._

~~~ 

When Harry came back by the Floo at Starlake House on the morning of the 29th of August, he knew it would be hard. He was greeted at the fireplace by a close-faced Sirius, that crooked a grin for him but still had blood on his forearm and the haunted eyes that inevitably showed up in tough times. Azkaban-eyes, Harry called them for himself. 

“How was the night?” Harry asked. 

“Tiring. Madam Pomfresh just left... But it'll be okay. I let him outside, so he didn't hurt himself.” 

Harry could hear the too easy. 

“Is he fine?” 

Sirius nodded and signalled him to follow him in the kitchen. A teapot waited for them. If the godfather had expected pouring tea to his godson would stop him from asking question, he was very wrong. 

“What about you?” 

“What?” 

“Are you fine, Sirius?” 

“Well, quite. I mean, you're okay, he will be okay. It had to be enough for a while, doesn't it? I just wish things could be easier, sometimes.” 

He rubbed his face with both hands. Harry felt his heart beating a bit heavier in his chest. It was concern. In a way, it was nice to be concerned by someone who was family and not friend. In another way, he knew he shared his godfather's anger for those who had beat Remus. He put a hand on Sirius's shoulder. The man managed a soft, tired smile and hugged him. 

“I promise you,” he whispered in his godson's hairs, “when everything will be over, you'll see, we'll be a proper family.” 

“We already are,” Harry answered.


	8. Back to Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black & godson VS Malfoy & son. Plus, Remus needs to cry.

“You ready?” Remus asked when Harry entered his caretakers' bedroom. 

“Yes. We're going to King's Cross soon. Fifteen minutes, or so.” 

He sat on the bedside and grasped Remus's hand. The touching between them became more and more frequent and comfortable with time. The werewolf's cheek was still covered in poultice and bandaged, but he was able to stay awake for a bit longer every day and he ate better too. They exchanged a smile. 

“Please take care of yourself, will you? Peter is still on the run and the ones who made me that... well, they won't be in Hogwarts, of course, but some of your fellow students may share a few of their points of view.” 

“Like Draco Malfoy? He practically said his father was one of those masked freaks. I just hope he wasn't the one who beat you, because if so, I would be glad to jinx his prat of a son!” 

Remus frowned slightly. 

“Don't, Harry,” he said sternly. “You had to promise me you won't jinx or hex or take revenge of anyone for what happened to me. First because I'm perfectly able to do it myself as soon as I'll be healthy again, second because I don't want you or Sirius having any problem because of me.” 

“But – ” 

“No but. Promise.” 

“Okay, Remus. I promise.” 

“Good. Now,” he started back playfully, “Can I ask you a favour?” 

“Erm, yes?” Harry said, unsure where Remus was driving him. 

“You see my desk in the library? Well, in the upper right drawer are a few more notes I'd like you to give to Professor Moody for me. It's the red file with black ribbon, right on top.” 

“I will,” the boy answered. 

Still, he knew that Remus already had send a bunch of notes to Moody, but he didn't ask more. 

“Thank you, Harry. You'd better go, now, or you'll be late. See you in october? 

“Yes. Get well soon, Remus.” 

The werewolf smiled and nodded, then patted Harry's shoulder and the teen squeezed his hand, and went out. 

In the desk, he found the red file and took it carefully, because it was fat and heavy and he was ready to close the drawer when he startled. Right under the red file, now lying on a light-green one, was a piece of parchment he recognized instantly. 

The Marauder's Map. 

He grinned. Here was the reason Remus asked him to take the file. To give him the Map back without having to undo his duty as a teacher... 

He took the Map and put it in his schoolbag along with the file, his and the three Galleons and the lunchbox Sirius had gave him earlier. 

“Oy, Prongslet!” his godfather voice called him in the living room. “Are you ready? Time's running out!” 

“I'm coming, Pads!” he answered closing the library's door. 

Ten minutes later, they Apparated in a back alley near King's Cross and soon met the whole Weasley tribe, and there was greetings everywhere, and Hermione and her parents. 

“Mum, dad, this is Sirius, Harry's godfather,” she introduced them letting Crookshank pass from her arms to Sirius's, who managed to grasp the cat with the left hand and shake Hermione's parents hands with the right one. 

“Nice to meet you in flesh,” her mother said. “Hermione told us a lot about how you choose to take care of your godson, it's very kind of you! Raising a teenager as a single man must not be easy.” 

“Oh, Harry is a good boy, so it's not that hard,” Sirius grinned thinking about the single man part and mentally noted that being gay may not be very okay for Muggles as well. 

Behind the Muggle woman's shoulder, he caught sight of the Malfoys and frowned. Their brat had better not to approach Harry, because he was sure that Lucius was one of Remus's torturer. He himself had a hard time not to reach Lucius right now and then and punch him right in his arrogant face. He had better to do something with his hands before making a mistake. 

“If you don't mind, Mrs and Mr Granger, I'll help the kids with their trunks,” he said and let the Muggle couple to the good care of Arthur Weasley, who of course was now a friend for them. 

Crookshank on the shoulders, he levitated the trunks inside the train with Molly and Charlie. At five to eleven, the train whistled, and Sirius gave Crookshank back to Hermione and hugged his godson goodbye. 

“Take care of yourself, Prongslet. Write if anything happen, or if nothing happen as well, would you?” 

“You're being overprotective, Sirius!” Harry teased him. “I'll be just fine, it's Hogwarts, remember? Will be a lot of powerful witches and wizards to look after me, McGonagall, Dumbledore – ” 

“Snape,” Sirius snorted, ironic. “Okay, I won't mother-hen you, I promise. But I'd be glad to have some news.” 

“I will write. And I'll miss you.” 

Sirius smiled, tousled his godson's hair, and broke the embrace. 

“Father, is it normal I'm feeling nauseous?” a slow, young voice said near them. 

“It is the smell of weakness and disgrace, Draco. An example for you of everything you will have to avoid to become the proper wizard you're destined to be.” 

“Translation,” Sirius added to Harry with a mischievous smirk, “a prejudiced intolerant prat.” He left an arm on his godson's shoulder and turned back to the Malfoys, who were pretty exactly in the same posture, except that they were so stiff that Harry wondered how they managed to breathe. By comparison, Sirius's brazed bearing, half leaning on one leg, was from far cooler to Harry's eyes. 

“Black,” Malfoy said. 

“Malfoy,” Black said. 

They glared at each other, one with despise and disgust and the other with a muffled, feral anger. The train whistled again. 

“You'd better go, son,” both men said to the boys. 

For maybe two seconds, the four of them startled. The situation was utterly awkward. 

“Harry!” Ron waved at him. 

“Draco!” Crabbe called. 

Lucius patted his son's shoulder, Sirius tousled Harry's hairs, and the boys ran to the running boards to catch the train which whistled again. 

Harry stayed near the window for a while, and Sirius waved at him with a smile. He waved back before joining Hermione and Ron. Time to come back to Hogwarts, he though as he threw himself on a seat. 

~~~ 

“Hey, love,” Sirius gently whispered in Remus's ear. “You awake?” 

“Yes. Was only resting my eyes. Harry's on his way?” 

“Sure.” 

He sat on the bedside, right where Harry had been a couple of hours ago, and caressed Remus's cheek, the left, not-injured one, with his thumb. He knew the soothing gesture was more for himself than for his mate, but still. It worked. 

“You met Malfoy on the platform, didn't you?” 

“How do you – ” 

“The murderous light in your eyes, Pads.” 

“We didn't row. I didn't have any Black-tantrum. I stayed calm. I promise.” 

Remus sighed. 

“I'm proud of you, then.” 

“He was one of them, wasn't he?” 

“Yes. He was. But I don't want you to get in troubles, Sirius, I need you far too much to be tore apart from you once more.” 

“Don't worry, love, I won't allow it anyway.” 

Remus's hand reached for Sirius's and rose it to his mouth, and he closed his eyes kissing the rough knuckles. 

“Would you mind help me downstairs? It's sunny outside and I've been stuck here for three days now... Since the moon, and I can't say I truly remember it.” 

Sirius smiled. Remus willing to go out was always a good thing. 

“Will you be able to stand?” he asked, careful to not seem pitiful. “You're still quite weak.” 

But Remus smiled back, a mischievous, kind, fond smile that instantly melted Sirius's heart. 

“Then I'll have to lean on you. You may have to put your hand on my waist and to be close to me. What a shame! I'll be sure to reward you for your abnegation and self-denial...” 

Sirius barked a laugh and helped him up and supported him. He put one of Remus's arms around his own shoulders, grabbed him by the waist with his own arm and they went down slowly. Remus's feet were unsure. His legs were clumsy and dull, and he winced more than once in pain, but they reached the garden and Sirius sat him down in a deckchair in the sun, with a plaid and soon some tea and chocolate. He sat on the grass near him and rested his head on his lover's lap. For a while they just stayed there in silence, their fingers tangled together, enjoying each other's presence, the gentle touch of a loved one, that simple, easy thing they'd craved for years and was now a a shared precious treasure for them. 

“I'm tired,” Remus eventually said. 

“Do you want me to carry you in, Moony?” Sirius instantly worried. 

“No, that's okay, it's just...” 

His tone faded, his eyes watered and in the blink of an eye Sirius wrapped him in his arms and Remus began to cry. To be fair, Sirius wondered how he had managed to stay still for so long, and the answer was now easy to know, because it was about a green-eyed boy. 

“I'm tired of the pain,” the werewolf weakly sobbed in his mate's shoulder. “I'm tired to have my body wounded and torn apart and broken and bruised and sore and weak all the time... I'm tired to be sick and stuck in bed and unable to work properly and I'm so bloody fucking tired to just be tired it tires me.” 

Sirius nodded in his neck, kissing him and rubbing his back and scalp and hugging him tight because there was nothing else he could do and he knew it. He rocked him back and forth and mumbled comforting nonsenses in his ear until Remus calmed down gradually, in strange, long waves punctuated by tears and sighs and sudden instants of relief. 

“I'm sorry,” he finally blurted. 

“Don't, Moony. I'm pretty impressed you didn't need it earlier. And you know you're welcome. You're always welcome. I'm yours, remember?” 

“Aye,” Remus nodded. “I remember.”


	9. Chocolates & letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is my last day in Scotland and it's in Edinburgh, where all the Harry Potter stuff once began, so to celebrate, you got a chapter. A letter-chapter, because letter-chapters are fun.  
> And aye, this was absolutely no summary, but who cares?

Dear Sirius, 

You'll never guess what's happening here. Tri-Wizard tournament! They bring back the Tri-Wizard Tournament! Don't worry, I can see you frown from here: I'm under aged, so I can't put my name on the Goblet of Fire anyway. By the way, Moody's a good teacher. Frightening like hell, but at least he transfigured Malfoy (Draco, not his father of course) in a ferret and bounced him everywhere because that twat tried to jinx me (he didn't). His first lesson was pretty mad, still, he showed us the Unforgivables on spiders. Neville fainted during the class! I must say I didn't liked it either, because of the killing curse. I can't remember well, but it still hurt to see how... well, how it happened. 

A lot of people are waiting for Remus to come back. I saw a few girls in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw actually cry when Dumbledore announced us he had been attacked and was hurt. You can guess how popular he is by the boxes of chocolate (everybody know he loves chocolate...) that the owls had to carry all the way to Starlake, I hope they won't be too tired... 

I saw Dobby, too. Do you remember Dobby? I told you about him, he's the House-Elf that tried to help me in second year, and he now works in Hogwarts' kitchens, he seems happy. Well, I assume not being Malfoy's House-Elf is already an improvement... 

My scar still doesn’t hurt. I hope it's good. So, don't worry about that too. 

Take care of Remus and of yourself, please. Ron and Hermione say hi. 

Love, 

Harry. 

~~~ 

Dear Remus, 

I hope you're better now. Professor Moody isn't as brilliant as you are but he's quite good anyway. A bit rough, but still. I gave him the file and he says thanks. Dean is purely ecstatic you send him a letter. I think he's going to write you again. You've got a fanboy!!! Anyway, he isn't the only one who wish for you to get better soon and to come back to teach us. A lot of people had learn that you live with Sirius and I and now they ask me how you are and a few of them gave me letters and presents for you, that's why I send ten other owls along with Hedwig, she's strong but all those chocolates are pretty heavy! 

Ginny said that Professor Moody didn't led them to the Boggart, he said it's your duty or some stuff like that. Anyway, get well soon please, you're really wanted here!!! I hope Sirius doesn't drive you too mad worrying and fussing! 

Love, 

Harry. 

~~~ 

Dear Professor Lupin, 

Professor Dumbledore said you've been hurt during the events of the World Cup, so we send you that box of Honeyduke's chocolate and we hope you'll get better soon. 

Wishing you a quick recovery, 

Lavande Brown, Padma and Parvati Patil. 

~~~ 

Dear Professor Lupin, I hope you're better and you'll come back soon. I send you that amulet I made this summer with my dad, it's one special to reject the Nargles, then they won't steal all the chocolate the other students send you. 

Be well soon, 

Luna Lovegood. 

~~~ 

Dear Professor Lupin, 

I know I won't be the only one, but I send you this letter along with a box of chocolate, the dark one you gave us after the Quidditch match last year, the one with the Dementors stuff and so. Professor Moody seems to be efficient as a teacher, but you are the one we fight to keep next year and we all hope you'll come back soon. The ones who attacked you were cowards, Professor Dumbledore said you were wandless, they must be ashamed and don't deserve to be called wizards and witches. 

All my fellow Hufflepuff are along with me to wish you a swift recovery. 

Cedric Diggory. 

PS: I'll put my name in the Goblet of Fire, wish me good luck! 

~~~ 

Dear Professor Lupin, 

Please get well soon and come back. Professor Moody is purely frightening. 

Anthony Goldstein. 

PS: I hope you like ginger-flavoured chocolate. My mum said ginger is healthy, so I thought it might help. 

~~~ 

(…) (…) (…) 

~~~ 

“I had to take a break, Moony, you made me read these for two hours now!” 

Remus chuckled and grabbed Sirius's hand to kiss his knuckles, but his lover leaned forward and snogged him. 

“Pretty please?” he added with puppy eyes. 

“Of course, Pads, you ought to take a break. I'm sorry I can't read them all by myself for now.” 

“Even if you could, I wouldn't let pass such a great occasion to learn how my beloved Moony is idolized by his pupils. Plus, you need to rest. But right now, I'm hungry, thirsty and I fancy a cuddle, because I read your students’ praises and couldn't even tell you how much I think they're right.” 

“Would you help me downstairs for lunch, then? If I had to eat once more in bed, I swear I'll turn insane.” 

“Anything for my Moony. I didn't cook anything this morning, by the way, so shall we order Em's fish and chips? 

“Sounds good.” 

“And which of all those chocolates do you want for dessert?” 

“Anyone except the ginger one.” 

“Why? You usually like ginger chocolate...” 

“I do, Padfoot. But ginger had side-effects, the kind of side-effects I'm not in shape to enjoy fully for now. And it would be a shame to skip it with you in my sight.” 

Sirius blushed hard. 

“You're supposed to be wounded!” he half-pouted crossing his arms on his chest. “Not to say dirty things I only can dream about for now.” 

“Only for now, love, only for now. Help me, would you? I'm hungry as well.” 

~~~ 

_Albus,_

_I truly hope you know what you're doing with that Tri-Wizard Tournament stuff, because you know very well how often troubles tend to find Harry without him even looking for anything. I mean, Karkaroff in Hogwarts? Snape isn't enough for you? It's almost a relief Moody had to stay there this year as well!_

_Anyway, I won't bother you about that, but enough former Death Eaters near my godson, please, or you'll have to accept dogs as pets in Hogwarts and give Harry a special authorization to have two pets, I swear!_

_Sirius._

_PS: his scar didn't hurt since last time._

~~~ 

_Dear Harry,_

_Okay we had an army of owls at home, our private address is no more private, but Moony is so happy with all those cards and letters and chocolate – I swear we had enough chocolate for months, even with him at home! – that I won't complain. And you sounds happy, so no, I don't worry. Well, for Remus, but not for you. For the time being._

_It's a shame I missed the Malfoy prat as a ferret, must have been something! That's quite a good idea, I would love to see Lucius as a bouncing ferret as well. Teach those bastards some respect. Including respect for House-Elves. I remembered Dobby for what you told this summer... It's a good thing he had not to try to save your live this year._

_Tri-Wizard Tournament sounds quite amazing, but please don't approach Karkaroff, that one is a former Death Eater. I hope it will be entertaining and instructive._

_Things are good here. Remus is far better and he can't stay stuck in bed now, so he's back to work in the library. Yes, you read well. Back to work. The bloke can't stand by himself, but he make me write bunches of notes for his next classes and read all the letters your fellow students sends him, would you believe that?_

_Anyway, say hi to Ron and Hermione for me and have fun with your fourth year!_

_Love,_

_Sirius._

_PS: And pet Crookshank for me, would you? I love that cat._

_PPS: I know how much it hurt. I'm with you in this, pup._

~~~ 

_**Dear Harry,**_

_**I'm glad you're enjoying your schoolyear and I'm recovering, I promise. Sirius isn't too infuriating, he tries not to fuss too much. Even if you know your godfather for now, so I put him in work with my next lessons and I must say he's quite effective as an assistant.**_

_**The letters from other students were very touching. Could you believe Dean Thomas send me two other letters this week? I'm still answering to the first day's ones!**_

_**I assume Sirius already told you about Karkaroff, but I'll double him: don't approach him. He was a Death Eater. I can't even swear he wasn't one of those who were partying during the Cup. I'm annoyed I can't be in Hogwarts with you, just in case.**_

_**Please stay careful and enjoy Hogwarts,**_

_**Love,**_

_**Remus.**_

~~~ 

Sirius, my dear boy, 

As you pointed it, Harry's under aged. Severus had my trust and Karkaroff had no way to approach your godson anyway. 

I swear you Harry is safe. 

Please take care of my Defense Against Dark Arts teacher, he's eagerly awaited here. 

Albus.


	10. Reality's revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry it took me ages to end this, lot of work and boring adulthood things to do instead of writing... But chapters 11 and 12 are ended as well, so you'll enjoy them soon ^^  
> As always, thanks to Kayjaylei for the proofreading!!!

Sirius sighed and smiled warmly. How could he still be so gone for this bloke after all those years? He couldn't wonder, and finally didn't care. He leaned a while against the door's frame of the library, arms crossed on his chest, watching his lover asleep on the desk, caught by exhaustion in the middle of some work. Remus was slightly snoring, his head pillowed on his forearms, a quill still lying mindlessly in his hand. His face was calm and rested, a bit tired but free of pain and sorrow, for once, and that view was a blessing for Sirius. Then and now, he could let that stupid fantasy of simple happiness fill him and put his mind up, a sweet dream where they didn't have to fight against the whole world and where they could live a life free of war and hate.

He thought about James. He missed him every day. His catching smile and his dazzling laugh, his stupid pranks and his daring glare when he was about to do some crazy thing, his messy hairs and his rambling speeches. Remus was his love, but James was his brother. Missing Remus was missing his heart, but missing James was missing his right arm and leg, and no, it wasn't any better. Well, it was considering that he retrieved his heart. But he knew he will never managed to be completely whole again, not without James. And he may call Harry Prongslet as Lily so often had once, Harry _wasn't_ James. Harry was a teen that had saw too much and ought to be protected by grown-ups, and he was that grown-up up to protect him. Molly could tell whatever nonsenses she had in her head, Sirius would never mistake a boy for a man, nor his godson for his brother.

For the whole summer he had been thinking a lot, about a lot of things. Harry. The scar that hurt. The Basilisk. Quirrel. The diary. Regulus. The last one was quite bitter.

“I can hear you think from here, Pads,” a raspy mutter shook him up.

“Oh, sorry, Moony, I didn't mean to wake you...”

He stepped forward and brushed Remus's temple with a kiss. The werewolf was still resting, eyes shut and lips sweetly smiling, but not asleep anymore. He reached for Sirius's hand and squeezed it.

“That’s fine. I’d better to rest in a bed anyway. What time is it?”

“Ten or so. Late enough for a convalescent to be sleeping. Come on, you work too much.”

“I love working.”

“One of those numerous bad habits of yours,” Sirius taunted.

“Always a better one than peeing in the garden. And don’t argue, I saw you.”

“It’s an instinct! I can’t help it when I’m a dog and you know it, you tosser!”

They laughed and went to bed, but if Remus was soon sleeping, his head resting on Sirius’s bare chest, the black-haired man stayed awake for hours, playing mindlessly with his lover’s sandy curls. He was still thinking about Tom Jedusor’s diary. There was something here, he was sure. Some clue he had to find. He had read the signs, he knew Remus and Albus, and probably Minerva as well, had too and that the Dark Lord was rising again. He had found a manservant back, give him another one and he will soon be back in flesh and blood and bones and bloody fucking darknesses. But he couldn’t rely the clues together. Why a diary would became a real teenager-Dark Lord – the idea, by the way, was frightening.

As they had a habit to sleep without curtains on the window, he let his eyes wander in the stars all over the sky. It was a new moon night, so stars were alone, without any silver crescent to fade their shine, and he loved that. New moon means less worries. Well, at least it had, for blessed years of innocence.

He wasn’t innocent anymore, but he allowed himself the relief the new moon brought him. He needed it. For the time being he devoted his whole time to Remus’s needs and recovery, but soon, Remus would be back to Hogwarts as well as Harry was. Then, he, Sirius, would have a lot of very unpleasant work to do. He just hoped he would be strong enough to manage it properly. Harry’s safety might depend of it, and if there was one person in the world he was able to do anything for, it was Harry.

Somewhere in the middle of that revelation, he fell asleep.

~~~

“Mrs Umbridge,” Lucius said rising from his armchair to greet the chubby, toad-like woman that an elf just introduced in his bureau. “Thank you for responding to my invitation.”

“The pleasure is mine, Mr Malfoy,” she nodded with a girly giggle, offering her hand.

He bowed and kissed her hand, ever a gentleman.

“Please take a chair. We have a lot to discuss.”

He snapped his fingers and another House-Elf popped in the bureau.

“Tea for both of us, and biscuits. Now.”

The Elf mumbled something that must be an apology for his very existence and disappeared while the witch sat in a comfy armchair and crossed her fat legs.

“As you may know, Mrs Umbridge, I am a fervent admirer of your work and your law project concerning hybrids. After what happened during the World Cup, I wanted to ensure you my full and plain support in that project. The Daily Prophet mentioned that the Dark Mark had been cast with a wand belonging to a werewolf, if I remember correctly.”

“You do, Mr Malfoy. I always says that we allowed far too much rights to the Dark Creatures they are.”

“Could you believe one of those beasts are actually teaching at Hogwarts? In June, an incident was even reported about one of his transformations, that happened without Wolfsbane. Thanks Merlin, he was out of the school before the moon rose, but he still is a threat for our children. My own son says he is barely an efficient teacher, through.”

“With all due respect, it seems clear that Dumbledore is senile by now, and far too old to rule Hogwarts.”

“I can see our interests converge. Maybe I could give your law project some official support? I can not wait to be rid of the fear I had for my son, who is studying at Hogwarts.”

“It would be a delight to have the support of a true, pure-blooded family of proper wizards.”

“Well, I will talk about it with Fudge during our next meeting... and maybe a call to Rita Skeeter? Or do you have any preference for another journalist?”

“Ms. Skeeter will be perfect, Mr Malfoy. Shall we set an appointment?”

Lucius smiled coldly and retrieved his schedule.

~~~

At the morning of the 19th of September, three owls landed on Gryffindor's table near Hermione during breakfast. They were carrying a big package wrapped in a red-and-gold paper, and the shortest letter the young witch ever had receive.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Happy Birthday! Hope you'll like that. And remember to have fun sometimes. Life is shorter than it looks!_

_Sirius._

“So he wasn't joking when he said he bought you a birthday present...” Ron commented, his mouth full of toast. “What is it?”

Hermione carefully unwrapped a huge, leather-covered book called “Another History of Magic and Wizardry”, by E. McLean.

“Blimey, a book, what a surprise,” Ron taunted.

“E. McLean?” Neville read, looking up her shoulder. “Who even is he? Or she, for what we know...”

“I don't have a clue,” Hermione answered opening the book, “but it seems interresting. It's a limited edition, through, it must have been pretty expensive, and quite hard to find... It's really kind of Sirius.”

She spend the end of the breakfast the nose in the book, that seemed, indeed, very catching because various sounds popped out of the cover which was the only thing the others saw for a while. Suddenly, her entire shaggy-haired head emerged.

“Harry, I love your godfather.”

“Erm... So do I? Now, we'd better hurry if we don't want to be late in class!”

Hermione lovingly placed the book in her bag. Harry made a note to ask Sirius what made it so special.

 


	11. Owls and oghams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the cliffhanger. You get the next chapter tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... here is the introduction of an OC, probably the only one in this story. She's an hommage to violsva's post on tumblr : http://violsva.tumblr.com/post/102916985753/in-my-head-somewhere-theres-this-muggleborn
> 
> PS : Please don't forget to thanks wonderful Kayjaylew for their proofreading !!!!

The first days of October brought back cold wind from the North, golden leaves on the birch trees, and a shadow in Sirius's eyes. Remus needed action, he was tired of being stuck at Starlake House now that he had almost recovered. Some days, he went out for hours wandering through the hills. Other days – rainy ones – he flooed to Grimmauld Place, burying himself in long, hard researches he wouldn't say anything about. The werewolf hated that, but he had work to do as well and Sirius wasn't the type you can tell to stay still and lazy.

A stormy Saturday, Remus found himself preparing lessons in the living room and waiting for McGonagall for teatime. The last brands of the full moon were fading on his face and the injuries from the Quiddich Cup were almost a bad memory. He felt more than ready to go back teaching, but absolutely _not_ ready to leave Sirius alone at Starlake. When the Deputy Headmistress had send him a letter asking for visiting him in order to give him a few files he needed, he decided he had to ask her for advice to solve his dilemma.

At five o'clock, the flames turned green.

“Good afternoon, Remus,” McGonagall said as he was stepping out of the fireplace. “You seem far better than the last time I saw you.”

“I am, thank you. Would you like a cup of tea?”

Soon enough, they were both sat in the living room with tea and ginger shortbreads.

“Where is your Mr. Black?” she asked, mostly for the pleasure to see er former studen't embarrassment. (Despite what most people thought, she _did_ have a sense of humour.)

“He went to Grimmauld Place for the afternoon,” the young teacher shook his head, clearly disapproving. “He is researching in his parents' library.”

“May I enquire about the topic of these researches?”

Remus huffed, in grudging approval for his boyfriend's doings. “Harry's scar, mostly, and Tom Riddle's diary. He says he doesn't want to talk about it in case he is wrong. To be fair, I hate to know he's at this house. He... he still spaces out sometimes. I mean, he's strong, but even if he never says it, I know he doesn't like the idea of staying alone for months, and now he's burying himself in that awful library. That's one of the reasons I asked for that... favour _.”_

“I understand your problem, Remus. After all, Sirius's name is cleared for four short months and both of you had gone through very rough times recently despite the evident relief of your reunion. I already talked with Albus about how to sort that problem out, as I'm fairly sure you won't be able to get separated for more than a day.”

“You did that?”

“Mr. Lupin, as a teacher, I made it a point to never show favour towards any of my students, but you and your little band of trouble makers always held a soft spot in this old woman.”

Remus saw she was smiling wider than ever.

“I really am happy for you to be reunited, and I think you've earned it. I want to think it's only favouring Hogwarts students, offering the best Defence Against Dark Arts teachers that their particular generation may have. If your teaching means having Alastor filling I during your absences, then it is much worth the risk.”

“You are the one who did that, aren't you? You only put the file in front of Albus and declared it sorted, didn't you?”

“Well, I am the Deputy Headmistress; it happens to be my job, Remus. Now,” she added putting three files, one very fat and two thin, “Here are your schedule and Alastor's report about each class. We will only need you for Halloween's eve, because all the teachers shall be on Triwizard Tournament's duties.”

“Halloween... Well, I assume he already found a way to go through Halloween for twelve years, he shall survive another one without me?”

She nodded.

“I'm sorry but a few... inconveniences remain that I couldn't erase. Here,” she went forward giving him the last thin file, “are all the special authorisations concerning the Floo Network. You will be able to floo home every evening through the fireplace of your teacher's bedroom. However, the network will be linked to Starlake's own protections spells and charms: if those happened to vanish or fail, the link shall be instantly closed, as a safety measure.”

“Of course. Minerva, I really don't know what to say... It's a real favour you do for me...”

“You have no choice but accept it already, Remus.”

The familiar whoosh of the floo cut their conversation short as Sirius stepped in, dishevelled and frowning. His eyes instantly caught Remus on the sofa.

“Moons, you shouldn't be up for that long! I –”

He jumped on noticing his old professor.

“Oh, erm. Good afternoon, professor?”

“Minerva in fine, Sirius. I hope your research is going well?”

“Obnoxiously bad, but I'll sort it out eventually.”

He sat near his lover and throw a protective arm around his shoulders.

“Is it about Harry? Or are you here on courtesy, for what I shall be grateful as long as you don't exhaust my boyfriend?”

“Let's stop with the whole 'boyfriend' thing, shall we?” Remus sighed, knowing none of the others cared anyway.

“Your godson is perfectly fine, Sirius. I am only ensuring Remus is ready to come back to work.”

Sirius's face closed instantly, but he forced a smile and nodded.

“His students can't wait anymore. We receive at least an owl a day, often carrying chocolate... How are our livers supposed to survive this?”

“It shall obviously be an emergency problem,” McGonagall answered very seriously. “However, Remus and I were discussing the special authorisation I will bestow him.”

“The _what?_ ”

Five minutes and a long explanation later, Sirius looked at McGonagall like he saw her for the very first time. Remus was fairly sure he was trying hard not to cry.

“I... don't know how to thank you, prof – Minerva.”

“Well you continue to take a good care of my Defense teacher and I will consider your debt payed off.”

“I don't need that to take care of him. But still. Thank you.”

She shook her head and drank a sip of tea. She also stayed a bit longer, giving news of Harry and his friends and the Tournament. When she left, Sirius grabbed Remus's collar, kissed him hard against the wall and they finally used the ginger flavoured chocolate.

~~~

Ten days later...

“You sure you're well enough? I mean, there's Moody in charge if you need some more days...”

“Sirius.”

“No, okay, I know you'll tell me you're fine, but you'd say you're _fine_ bleeding to death...”

“Sirius...”

“Plus, it's getting cold outside and you haven't let me buy you any more clothes since July. You can't wear your winter robes anymore, you'll catch a cold and...”

_“Sirius.”_

“Yes, love?”

“Stop worrying this instant, you remind me of my mother.”

Sirius tightened his lips and leaned forward to nest in his boyfriend's arms.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” Remus said brushing his boyfriend's black locks. “But there's no need to worry or freak out, love. I will come back this evening for dinner, and until then, have a perfectly normal day teaching teens how to face a boggart.”

“Fair enough,” Sirius shook his head lowering his eyes. “I feel ridiculous.”

“You aren't. Well, you are, but I don't care. I just want you to promise me something.”

“Everything you want.”

“Take a break in your researches. Focus on something else until Halloween is passed.”

“You don't want me to go to Grimmauld Place, do you?”

“Padfoot.”

“Okay, I promise. Now you ought to go, Moony. We don't want you to be late for your first day.”

Remus beamed and kissed him.

“Have a nice day, Pads.”

“Have a nice day, Moons.”

~~~

Colin Creevey was the first one to spot him, mostly because he overslept and was late at breakfast. A few seconds before he entered the Great Hall, Remus heard the piercing voice of the third year Gryffindor yelling a “HE'S BACK!” at the top of his lungs.

As soon as he passed the doors, half of the students were standing.

“Welcome, Professor!” someone shouted and a whole chorus of greetings followed.

Remus scratched the back of his neck and tried not to blush – and more or less failed – as he walked to the teachers' table, waving his hand and greeting his students, and then his co-workers. He couldn't help but wink at the Trio, who answered waving enthousiastic hands.

He sat near Alastor Moody after properly greeting everyone, and the Auror passed him a note.

“The boggart,” he said. “The third years are your first class today.”

~~~

As always, Sirius obeyed to Remus. He took a break from Grimmauld Place for two weeks and focused on the protections spells and charms around Starlake House. He also took a habit of going to work at the pub in Glendew, a nearby village: he struggled with loneliness as soon as no one was around, and now that Remus was gone all day, he felt better outside. Plus, there was Em's fish and chips, and he never felt like cooking when he was alone. Lucky he had a lean figure.

That's how he ended once more at Glendew's pub at Halloween. Remus was staying for the feast at Hogwarts with Harry to celebrate, mostly because Sirius asked him to. He was uncomfortable with all that tournament stuff. Two reformed Death-Eaters near his precious godson were far too much for him.

He was working on runes that evening, a pint in one hand and a huge old book in the other, taking notes between sips. Something, however, didn't fit in the charm he was trying to form and he couldn't point what exactly. Eventually his pint was empty.

“If it's about Starlake, ye'd better use oghams than runes,” a soft voice said as a re-filled pint landed on his table. “Suits to the land.”

Sirius looked up his book and found Em, the chubby waitress with green-and-blue spiky hair, and amazing creator of fish and chips. He wasn't surprised at all, considering he knew about her being a witch for months. In facts, he met her far before he bought Starlake, but never told anyone about that. It should have been rude, for a lot of reasons.

“Oghams?” he asked closing the book.

“Ancient Celtic alphabet.”

Em scanned the room with a careful eye. It was quite late now, maybe one in the morning, and even the musicians were gone. She stared at the bar for a while to ensure her boss wasn't there anymore and sat near Sirius.

“Ye can use that book,” she said writing down a name on Sirius's paper. “It's the best one. But for noo, that one's a good shield,” she added drawing a simple symbol on the sheet.

“Thanks for the advice,” Sirius said but the pub's owner entered the room and Em jumped on her feet and almost ran back to the bar.

“I dinna pay ya to chat with customers, fatty, just to keep their pints filled!” the man growled.

He was even larger than she was, however.

Em frowned, but swallowed her pride and nodded lowering her eyes.

“I asked her to help me,” Sirius spoke.

The man huffed and went back to the private room where a few tourists were. Em was red with anger. She opened her mouth, ready to say something, but a fierce huge ball of white feathers throw itself through the window and cut her neatly crashing on Sirius's arms.

“Hedwig?”

He quickly opened the letter running out of the pub.

“Put it on my tab!” he told to Em slamming the door and going back to the letter.

  
  


Sirius,

I SWEAR I DIDN'T PUT MY NAME IN THE GOBLET! But it was in it and now I'm supposed to be Hogwart's second champion and I don't want and Ron doesn't want to talk to me and I don't know what to do!

HELP!

Harry.

 


	12. Omen of a War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the end of the third part. Fourth is all planned and partly wrote, but the question is... is there anyone still reading this story ? I know it had been a long break, and I'll do my best to be more regular...  
> So if you're still reading and enjoying the fic, and wanting me to end it, please leave a comment, I really need some motivation right now... 
> 
> As always, a huge thanks to Kayjaylew who so kindly proofread each chapter !!!

_“What is this bullshit?”_ Sirius roared, storming in Dumbledore's office, brandishing Harry's last letter like a sword he was willing to hit the Headmaster with. “How could you have accepted this?!”

“Ah, Sirius,” Dumbledore calmly said. “Please take a sit, we have to talk.”

He gestured to the nearest armchair, but Sirius was so out of himself he shooted in and slapped it instead of sitting in.

“ _You get my godson out of this fucking tournament or I swear Albus I'll -”_

“I would oblige you with the greatest pleasure, but I simply can't. The Goblet's law -”

Sirius's face flushed red with growing anger.

“I'LL SMASH YOUR FUCKING GOBLET AND WE'LL SEE WHAT LAW THE FUCK IT IS! IT'S A BLOODY TRAP TO HARM OR KILL HIM, DON'T TELL ME YOU CAN'T SEE THAT!”

“If you would refrain from shouting, it would benefit the both of us. I may be old, but my ears are perfectly fine, and I hear you quite well.”

“I'LL SHOUT AS MUCH AS I WANT!!! YOU  _SWORE_ THAT IT WAS SAFE FOR HIM!”

“Padfoot,” a quiet voice said behind him. “Shut up.”

And so he did, because that voice belonged to Remus Lupin, who stepped forward in the Headmaster's office.

“Thank you for coming, Remus,” Dumbledore said and Sirius growled because he knew he had been expected. “Now, shall we take a sit and talk, Sirius?”

“Fine,” he said collapsing in the nearest armchair, obviously pouting at his mate.

“Don't do that,” Remus protested. “It's not like you were going to be constructive in your tantrum.”

“It  wasn't a  _tantrum_ .” Sirius snapped far too hard to be honest, “I don't do tantrums. I'm not my bloody  _mother.”_

“Would you excuse me, Headmaster?” Lupin said before pining Sirius's shoulders to the back of the armchair and meeting his eyes. “Now, you calm down, Pads. It's really not the right time to be childish and I'm as angry as you are, but punching and yelling won't change anything and I need you right now. Deep breath and look at me.”

As always, Sirius obeyed, though unwillingly. They both knew this kind of anger did more harm than good.

“You better?”

Sirius huffed, but nodded.

“Okay. I'll listen to you, Albus, but you'd better to have good clues about what happened, because Harry says it's not him, and I believe him.”

“So do I, Sirius, so do I. But the problem is still the same. The Goblet choose him. He must take part of this. The only thing able to undo the pact would be to cancel the whole tournament, and the Ministry won't allow this. I already am in a sort of delicate situation with Fudge,” he eyed Remus that looked down, “and can not afford to make it worse, for Hogwarts's sake.”

“I don't give a fucking shit about Hogwarts's sake as long as Harry is safe,” Sirius muttered, but Remus snapped him on the back of the head.

“No time for nonsense, Pads.”

“I get it. Nothing to do. He'd better not end hurt during that bloody tournament, Albus, or I'll consider you responsible for this. Now I want to see my godson.”

“He must be in his dormitory. Here's the password. And don't frighten the Fat Lady, this time...”

Sirius snarled, stood up and grabbed Remus's hand. Dumbledore's door slammed hard as the headmaster sighed.

~~~

“Heya, Prongslet,” Sirius ruffled Harry's hairs sitting on the boy's bed.

“You came?” his godson sat on the bed, blinking several times to wake up.

“Course I do!”

“I don't want to stay here,” Harry said waving a desperate hand to Ron's bed. “Can we go to the common room?”

Soon they were sat on the couch near the fire, and Harry was hugging his own legs because hugging his godfather in Gryffindor's common room wasn't something a fourteen year old would do. Sirius kept the distance his godson wanted, and waited for him to take the first step.

“I think Ron's upsetting me far more than the Tournament.” the teen finally blurted out. “He... he doesn't believe me, Sirius! He's my best friend and he doesn't believe me! It's so unfair! I never asked for anything and troubles always find me anyway! It's... Blimey, it's frustrating and infuriating and overwhelming and _why_ , for Merlin's sake?”

Sirius wasn't someone who think before speaking, and that's how he shrugged and said:

“Well, because of the bloody Prophecy, of course.”

“What?” Harry jumped.

His godfather frowned hard.

“No one told you? Dumbledore was supposed to tell you once you were of age. Don't get me wrong, you're young, and I won't let you get into any fights if I can help it.”

“I know about the 'Boy who lived' stuff.”

“Not all of it, Prongslet. Did people tell you why your parents went into hiding during the War?”

“Voldemort was looking for them?”

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“He wasn't looking for them,” he told Harry very gravely, grabbing his godson by both shoulders to face him. “He was looking for you, because a prophecy was made telling a boy born at the end of July would be his death. I don't know the exact words, and I don't think Voldemort knew them either, but that's why James and Lily chose to hide, why Voldemort hunted you, and why I fucked up.”

“My parents died... because of me?”

“No!” Sirius corrected. “They died protecting you, it's true, but you aren't responsible of anything. I won't allow you to think that stupid way for even a second, do you hear me?”

“Yes, but, Sirius, I never wanted this. I never asked for this.”

“I know, pup. If I could take that Prophecy on me to leave you have the youth you deserves, I would, but I can't. All I can do is being there for you any time, and I am and will. Are you aware of this?”

“Well I send you Hedwig four hours ago and here you are, so... Yes?”

“Good. Now, don't worry too much about Ron. He'll sort it out eventually. He's probably far more frustrated about himself than about you. I did the same thing to your father a few times during our Hogwarts times, when my family was too shitty and his own parents were so great it was infuriating sometimes... Jealousy often leads to childish behaviour, but you'll make it up on time.”

“You're sure of that?”

“One hundred percent, Prongslet. He'll come, apologise and at first you will think that you don't want to forgive him and two seconds later you will find yourself forgiving him and maybe hugging him. Or maybe punching him on the face and fight and laugh and it will be all fine.”

“I don't know if I'm more comfortable with the punching or with the hugging.”

“Or maybe you'll find a less... expansive way to express your feelings. Your father and I tended to get effusive. A bit too effusive, in Remus's view. Smacked us up the heads loads.”

Harry's head lifted a bit and he smiled for the first time this evening. Sirius couldn't help but ruffle his hair.

“Are we alike? My father and I?”

“You do look like him, and sometimes, you sounds like him either even if you remind me your mother far more often. But as wonderful as they were, Harry, you're not your father or mother, and you don't need to. However, you have their strength. And their courage.”

Harry nodded and let his head rest on his godfather's shoulder. And, because at fourteen sleep had rights that can't be forgotten, he began to yawn.

“It's late, son. Time to go to bed, right?”

“Okay. See you soon, Sirius?”

“As soon as you want. Good night, pup.”

Instinctively, Harry leant forward for his forehead kiss, that Sirius gave him without even thinking. They froze a second later, and the teen rolled his eyes trying hard to pretend he didn't do such a childish thing, but Sirius shrugged, winked and let him go back to his dorm.

Half an hour later he wrapped himself in Remus's arms, in the warmth of their bed at Starlake.

“How are you, Padfoot?”

“Bad, and afraid. I really don't like this, Moony. Someone is tricking him.”

“We will sort it out, I promise. Now you need to sleep. It had been a long day.”

Sirius nodded against Remus's chest, but dawn found him wide awake, mulling over his mind all the omens of the war coming.

 


End file.
